


Follow the Sun

by VR_Trakowski



Category: Logan Lucky (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amnesia fic, Brief Violence, F/M, because i love those, brief indirect mention of attempted sexual assault, brief use of misogynistic terms, it's all tom daniels' fault, slow burn i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:15:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 63,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26222482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VR_Trakowski/pseuds/VR_Trakowski
Summary: “Engine trouble?”He looked up.The girl - woman? - young anyhow - stood a few yards away, eyeing him with a mix of interest and wariness.  He took her in all at once, tall and bony and muscled, worn pack on her shoulders, length of pipe stuck through her belt within easy reach.  Hitchhiker, probably.“Seems like.”  His voice was hoarse; he hadn’t used it since the day before.  “Sounded rocky.”“Lemme take a look.”Clyde's demons get the better of him, and he runs.  Rey's had enough, andsheruns.  What they find together is a new road...
Relationships: Clyde Logan/Rey (Star Wars)
Comments: 79
Kudos: 72





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Do I know anything about psychiatry and amnesiac states? I do _not._ This is me playing around with a fictional trope because I find it fun. :P It is in no way meant to represent reality. 
> 
> 2\. I'm really dreadful to Eunice, NM here. As far as I can remember, I've never been there; I'm sure it's a perfectly nice little town. Don't judge it by my electronic equivalent of sticking a pin in a map and making up horrible things. 
> 
> 3\. Many thanks to ROG, who ID'd Clyde's car from one still and patiently supplied information for my dumb questions, most of which I ended up not using. 
> 
> 4\. No matter what characters don't do in films, wear your seatbelt.

One thing about being a bartender - it’s easy to drink. 

People don’t notice just how much the guy behind the bar puts away over the course of an evening. Even easier when you _own_ the bar, and you’re the one handling the books. It’s astonishing, how much one man can drink in a night, if he’s careful, if he’s discreet. 

Clyde never drank enough to knock himself off his feet - not when he was working. He might be a simple-minded, maimed, unlucky Logan boy, but he didn’t want to end up like Aunt Sissy, wrapped around a telephone pole on her way home from her daughter’s wedding, or second-cousin Huck Logan who was cleaning his brand-new gun while drunk and shot off his own knee. 

No, he was smart about it, and just drank enough to take the edge off. Between that and working on the Logan Curse, his mind was occupied enough that he could sleep, most nights. 

And when the memories did come back, they stayed in nightmares where they belonged. 

There was only one problem. 

* * *

“Haven’t heard you talk about the curse for a while,” Jimmy said, holding up his bottle and peering through it at the lowering sun. “You finally give all that shit up?” 

Clyde lowered his own bottle before it reached his lips, looking over at his brother and feeling a cold spot growing in his gut. 

It was an odd question for such a peaceful afternoon, the two of them sitting out back of Mellie’s place waiting for her to get home from work; two worn but comfortable deck chairs and a cooler full of Miller Lite. And it put into words something that Clyde realized he’d been trying to avoid - namely, that the Logan Curse looked to be broken. 

He just grunted and took a deliberate swallow of beer. Jimmy laughed, and blew across the top of his bottle to make it toot. “Doesn’t seem to be much to it any more,” he said, echoing Clyde’s thought. “After the...thing, and all.” 

“Your damned ‘cauliflower’,” Clyde muttered, and Jimmy shot him a look. 

“It worked, didn’t it?” 

Which was true enough. They seemed to have pulled it off; even the FBI had stopped sniffing around. And while Clyde might be too nervous to actually spend any of his share, it was good to know he had it. Just in case. 

But the problem preyed on him, through Sunday dinner and then all the way back home. Clyde had finally got his license back, and he drove real careful because he did _not_ want to lose it again and the cops knew to look out for his car now. But it took an effort to keep his mind on the road, and it wasn’t because of the beer. He’d stopped drinking before dinner anyway. 

The thought chased him out of the car and into the little single-wide he called home. They’d pulled off Jimmy’s heist perfectly; Mellie’d kicked Joe Bang to the curb, Jimmy was on good terms with his ex and seeing Sadie every week, Clyde even had his fancy new hand and the bar was in the black. 

It wasn’t that he was waiting for something bad to happen. Clyde _knew_ how the Curse worked. Something good would happen, _really_ good, and then something bad would take it away again before anybody could enjoy it. 

But they’d been fine for over a year now. Maybe Jimmy’s cauliflower scheme had been the thing that did it. 

Clyde slumped in his armchair and stared at the blank screen of his TV without even seeing it. Somewhere in the bottom of his brain, panic was starting to bubble up. 

_If the Curse is broken..._

He’d kept the memories at bay with a combination of alcohol and research. Concentrate on the Curse, on tracing all its permutations, on waiting for it to strike again - and his demons stayed quiet, hidden away in his head. 

Without it, they would be off the leash. And he didn’t think he could survive that for long. 

A vision of the bar rose up before him, all those rows of glasses, the crates in the storeroom. He could find peace there, pulling it together bit by bit from the bottom of each bottle - 

It was that picture that spurred him to his feet. Clyde hadn’t packed in years, but the old drills came back to him with ease, and within five minutes he was back out the door with a duffle slung over his shoulder. 

Two minutes after _that_ , he was pulling onto the highway, adrenaline weighting his foot on the accelerator. On some level, he knew he should at least let Mellie and Jimmy know, but he couldn’t think through the panic. 

All he could do was run. 

Clyde chased the night for hours, not knowing where he was going and unable to care. When the sun overtook him, he stopped long enough to piss and refuel and grab some coffee, but that was all he could do. Rational thought was smothered beneath the fear. 

He drove through the day as well, eyes reddening as the sun curved over his shoulders and speared through the windshield. It too faded; the lights lining the highway pulsed in his vision, hypnotic, but he didn’t stop. 

Couldn’t stop. 

It was some remnant of training that finally had him pulling over, when the gray light of dawn was blurring so badly that he couldn’t see well enough to drive. The highway was straight and empty and flat, nothing but young corn on either side; the shoulder was wide enough for the car. 

He’d bunked in worse places than the driver’s seat. He unbuckled his seatbelt and dropped into sleep in five seconds. 

There was no one around to hear him when the nightmares came. 

* * *

The Southwest was hot and dry, and the Pontiac’s air conditioning only coughed out warm air, but the nights weren’t so bad and the highways were clear enough that he could roll down his windows and let the breeze take care of things. It was habit, now, to drive all night and into the morning; he’d find a cheap motel, crash for a few hours, and be up and out by sunset, stopping just long enough to grab a sandwich somewhere. 

He didn’t have a goal, or a purpose. He just drove. 

He was somewhere east of Eunice, New Mexico when the engine started sounding rough. Pulling over, he popped the hood and stared down at it, trying to focus, but the complexity of metal didn’t mean anything to him. 

A blankness nibbled at the edges of his mind. If he couldn’t go on, what would he do? 

“Engine trouble?” 

He looked up. 

The girl - woman? - young anyhow - stood a few yards away, eyeing him with a mix of interest and wariness. He took her in all at once, tall and bony and muscled, worn pack on her shoulders, length of pipe stuck through her belt within easy reach. Hitchhiker, probably. 

“Seems like.” His voice was hoarse; he hadn’t used it since the day before. “Sounded rocky.” 

“Lemme take a look.” Hers was confident; she let the pack slip, and it clanked when it hit the asphalt. “Oh, that’s a classic, isn’t it? Kept up nicely.” 

Her accent was the kind he only heard on TV. He stepped back to give her room, too bemused by her sudden appearance to question her authority as she rolled up the sleeves of her stained shirt and ducked to examine the engine more closely. 

“Clogged filter,” she announced after a few minutes. “I can clean it enough for you to get moving, but you really need a new one.” 

One bright eye peered up at him from under the hood, and he jerked out a nod. The woman busied herself with the filter and a rag she’d pulled out of her back pocket, muttering to herself. “Got any water?” 

He’d picked up a case at a truck stop a while back, to save stopping more often, and he grabbed a bottle from behind the driver’s seat. She doused the filter liberally, then wiped it down before fitting it back in. “Give it a try.” 

The engine roared without a hitch when he turned the key. The woman closed the hood, giving him a grin as bright as her eyes, and he felt his lips twitch in response. 

He twisted the key back. “What do I owe you?” 

She blinked, absently wiping the grime from her fingers with the rag. “How about a lift?” 

He cleared his throat. “Where you goin’?” 

“Anywhere that’s not Eunice.” Her mouth went taut. 

It was his debt to pay. It was easy to reach across and open the passenger door. 

The woman slung her bag behind the seat and put on her seatbelt without being prompted, which he approved of, leaning back with a sigh that spoke of bone-deep weariness. He reached back and came up with another bottle of water, holding it out silently, and she took it with a nod of thanks. 

He started the car again and pulled back onto the road. 

At least three miles passed before the woman spoke, and her voice was casual. “I’m Rey.” 

He nodded again, sensing more than seeing her raised brow when he didn’t reply. For a moment he thought she wasn’t going to ask, but - “What’s your name?” 

She’d helped him out of a tight spot, kept him going. She deserved the courtesy of an answer. He had to swallow before he could force his voice to work. 

“I don’t know.” 

* * *

_Huh_. 

Rey figured that she should probably be alarmed by the big man’s admission. Hell, she knew she shouldn’t have climbed into a stranger’s car at all, except that she had an urgent need to get _away_ , and he was a surer thing than trying to flag down an eighteen-wheeler. 

But...

He felt _safe._ She couldn’t explain it; but Rey’s radar was finely honed from years of living with an asshole, and the nameless driver didn’t set it off. 

She opened her mouth to ask the obvious questions, _did you hit your head, did you check your driver’s license,_ and then closed it. They seemed rude, like asking how he’d lost his hand would be rude. So she shrugged, said “Okay,” and went back to looking out the windscreen. 

It had taken her three hot and sweaty hours to walk east from Eunice; they swept into it in less than thirty minutes. Rey resisted the urge to scrunch down in her seat - it wasn’t like Unkar was going to be searching every car that came through town - but she didn’t turn when they passed the garage, only squinting at it out of the corner of her eye. 

It looked closed, and she felt some of the tension in her seep away. _Who’s going to open it? He’s probably still flat on his back with an ice pack on his groin._

The thought gave her a fierce satisfaction, though Rey knew she wasn’t out of the woods yet. Unkar was vicious enough that he would probably come looking for her, which was why she’d gone in the less likely direction. Of course, now she was going the _more_ likely way, but serendipity had handed her a ride and Rey wasn’t going to turn it down. 

The vintage car had power. They were through Eunice and gone before her heart had time to slow. 

The wind coming in the windows made the heat just bearable, and Rey was used to it anyway. She undid her ponytail so the strands wouldn’t tickle and leaned her head back against the seat, letting the rumble of the engine soothe her. Not to sleep - she didn’t trust the nameless man _that_ far - but some long tension was unwinding with every mile she put between herself and Plutt. Running away was throwing herself into the abyss; but the abyss was better than staying. 

It took them just over an hour to reach Carlsbad. It was a brilliant, expensive contrast to tiny Eunice, and Rey hoped the silent man next to her would keep going, but he started looking around as if searching for something, and her heart sank. In theory it would be easier to pick up another ride there, but if she couldn’t find one right away her tiny hoard of cash would not last long at all. _And I can’t stay here._ It was too close - 

The man pulled into the lot of an auto parts store, shutting off the engine and turning to her. Heat instantly enveloped them both, but he didn’t seem to notice. 

“If I give you the money, can you buy a new filter?” he asked. 

Rey blinked. “Sure...” 

He nodded once, then reached into his pocket and peeled off five twenties from a thick wad of worn cash. She nearly choked. 

“This enough?” 

He really had no idea, apparently. “Forty’s plenty.” 

The man hesitated, then took back two of the twenties and handed the rest to her. “If you swap it out for me I’ll buy you breakfast.” 

_Huh_ , she thought again. “I never turn down food.” Rey opened the door and swung up onto her feet, then hesitated. 

If this was just a ploy to scrape her off without fuss, leaving her bag in the back of the car would be stupid - he could just drive off with it. On the other hand, pulling it out would make it seem like she was going to run off with his sixty dollars. 

“I’ll wait,” the man said, as if he could read her hesitation. _Maybe he can._

Rey blew out a breath. Trust had worked well for her so far today; she might as well ride that as long as she could. She nodded, and headed inside. 

The filter was easy to find, but there was a line at the register. Rey didn’t care; the store’s air conditioning was working full blast, and she reveled in the chill. She hoped her nameless benefactor had at least gotten out of his car and wasn’t sitting in the oven it would become. His accent was slow and definitely not local; it probably didn’t get this hot where he came from. 

The line inched forward. Rey eyed the racks of keychains and deodorizer tags, bored, as the customer three ahead of her asked the cashier some complicated question. 

“I can take the next customer here,” said a familiar voice, and Rey looked up at the blond man who’d just opened a second register. 

_Fuck._

There was absolutely nothing wrong with the man in question; Fred was a decent guy who had always been polite to her. But Rey had hoped to get out of Carlsbad without being spotted; and he was an inveterate gossip. 

Of course he whipped through the two intervening transactions at speed, leaving her no choice but to step up next. “Hey Fred.” 

“Rey, nice to see you! What’re you doing out here?” He swiped the filter over the scanner. 

“Specialty purchase - the customer’s in a hurry.” All of which was true. “I don’t need a bag.” 

“No problem.” Fred took the money she held out and rang it in, and Rey wished she could tell him to pretend he’d never seen her, but that would prompt questions and curiosity. All she could do was hope he wouldn’t have any reason to go through Eunice for a while. 

Rey folded away the change and smiled goodbye, toting the filter out into the hammering sun. She wasn’t - quite- surprised to see the old car still in its place, or the nameless man leaning against it, but something in her stomach settled into place at the sight. 

It seemed her luck was holding. 

* * *

The woman - _Rey_ \- didn’t take too long, reappearing with a new filter, and a fistful of change that she handed over scrupulously with the receipt. Frankly he wouldn’t care if she’d pocketed the difference, but her honesty was pointed and he respected that. 

“Open the hood?” she asked, rolling up her sleeves again, and he squinted at her. 

“Engine’s still hot.” 

She raised a brow. “It won’t get any cooler in the sun. I’m used to it.” 

And she’d navigated it before, true. He did as she asked, and carefully didn’t watch as she bent over the engine and worked the old filter free; his past might be as blank as an empty page, but his body knew what it liked. 

But something in him knew that a gentleman didn’t ogle a lady, particularly when she was doing said gentleman a favor. 

“There you go.” She straightened, holding the old filter. “I’ll just toss this out, shall I?” 

He watched as she gathered up the packaging for the new one and trotted to the nearest trash can, stuffing it all inside. The sun beat down mercilessly, lighting her up like something unearthly, and he watched her roll down her sleeves as she returned, not really thinking about anything until he spotted the bruises. 

He couldn’t remember feeling much of anything, besides the trickle of fear from that morning. But the sight of those purple smudges around her forearm - too circular to be anything but fingermarks - made his ears ring with sudden rage. 

He didn’t let it show. The same instinct that let him know how to behave told him that making a fuss would scare her, or worse. But something stirred in him, behind the anger, and he let it run. 

She was looking at him warily, and he pushed off from the car. “Breakfast,” he said, and opened his door. 

They settled on a Waffle World - or rather, Rey told him where it was when he started looking around - and since it was late morning the place was not busy. It felt odd somehow to sit at a booth with a woman he didn’t know, like he was violating some rule of etiquette, but Rey didn’t seem bothered, accepting her menu from the server with a friendly smile. 

“Get whatever you want,” he told her when the server had stepped away. “I didn’t have to pay for a mechanic.” 

Rey gave him a long look, and he tried not to flinch from her gaze. But whatever she saw seemed to satisfy her, because when the server came back she ordered about twice the food he did. 

It was, he admitted, kinda fun to watch her put it all away. Though it did draw attention to the leanness of her figure, how the wrists now shadowed by her shirt cuffs were bonier than they should be, and that just started up the anger again. 

So he ate his hotcakes and fried eggs, pushing the bacon aside. Rey didn’t try to draw him out in conversation, which he appreciated, simply eating with the steady pace of someone concentrating on an important task. 

She’d polished off her waffle when his plate seemed to draw her attention. “Aren’t you going to eat your bacon?” 

He glanced down at it, suddenly unsure. “I...it don’t look right.” 

“Hm, mine was fine.” Rey shrugged and scooped up more hash browns. “You could send it back,” she said around the mouthful. 

He shook his head and nudged the plate away. 

* * *

The nameless guy was definitely weird, but Rey had to give points to anyone who let her have unfettered access to a menu. She hadn’t been this full in _months._

They walked back out to his car after he’d paid the bill - with cash. She’d left her pack in the car since it was bulky, but he’d taken a worn satchel in with him, the kind done in that dull military canvas that lasted half a lifetime. 

When he snapped the locks open Rey ducked her head in to grab her pack, then straightened and gave him a bright smile. “Thanks for the lift. And breakfast.” 

He had a forbidding face, what with the deep-set eyes and the goatee, but the way his jaw shifted seemed to indicate uncertainty. “You’re runnin’, ain’t you.” 

Cold ran up her spine despite the sun, but Rey lifted her chin to meet his gaze. It wasn’t hard to figure out, after all. “Going to call the cops?” 

“Hell no.” The hard words startled her more than his statement. He smoothed a nervous hand over the back of his neck. “Look, I gotta get some sleep, been driving all night. If you want...you can come with me.” 

She gaped at him. “Is this a sex thing?” 

He flushed bright red. _“No._ I - I just wanna help.” 

Rey had absolutely no reason to believe him, except that he’d been _nice_ , this whole time. “I...I don’t know...” 

He waved a hand at the motel across the street. “We’ll get a room - I got money - and I can sleep. You don’t have to. Come sunset we’ll go again.” 

The whole thing was utterly _weird._ “But _why_?” 

He shrugged. “’S the right thing to do?” 

_Spend the day in a motel with a man you just met, whose name you don’t even know - this sounds like a bad porno._

But the alternative was wandering through Carlsbad looking for a ride with someone who would be a _complete_ stranger - and unless she managed to find a woman willing to take a passenger, even riskier. _Plus Unkar might be on his feet by now -_

“Okay,” Rey said warily. “But you try anything and I will lay you out.” She still had the pipe in her bag, after all. 

“Miss, I do not doubt it.” Was he smiling? It was hard to tell. 

Rather to her surprise, the man did exactly what he said he would. They drove over to the motel, where Rey trailed him into the shabby little lobby suspiciously; but all he did was argue the desk clerk into giving him a room - with two beds - in the middle of the day. And paid in cash. 

The room smelled stale and disinfected at the same time; judging by the reek of artificial orange, the cleaners had just come through. The man took his duffle and his satchel into the bathroom with an inarticulate mutter, and Rey heard the shower start shortly after. 

She dropped her own bag near the door and looked around a bit helplessly. The place was standard, with two beds covered with stained spreads, a narrow, battered desk and an equally battered chair, and a TV hung on the wall, the remote locked down on the central nightstand. The clock-radio and the lamp that shared that space were so generic as to be nearly invisible. 

Rey wrinkled her nose at the bedspreads, then pulled one gingerly back, shoving pillows out of the way so she could sit against the headboard. She turned on the TV, muting it quickly, and started flipping nervously through the various channels on offer. 

The water stopped after about five minutes, and the man emerged soon after, dressed in a t-shirt and soft shorts in contrast to the button-down and jeans he’d worn earlier. He was carrying his prosthesis in his remaining hand, and set it carefully on the nightstand before peeling back the covers on the empty bed and climbing in. He set the worn satchel next to his head, which was strange, but - 

_This whole thing is so weird he might as well._

“Can I ask you a question?” Rey said as he pulled up the sheet. “Just one.” 

His grunt sounded acceding, and she glanced at him. His black hair was damp, contrasting starkly against the white of the pillows. “You have a license, you showed it to the clerk. Why don’t you just read the name on it?” 

She half-expected him to say it wasn’t his, or it was fake, or something. But dark eyes peered at her for a long moment before closing. “Tried that. Can’t remember it afterwards.” 

He rolled over so his back was to her, and Rey could take a hint, so she didn’t reply. Instead she watched commercials flicker past, absurd without the sound, and thought. 

_If he’s telling the truth - **big** if - then there’s something seriously wrong with this guy. He’s definitely disturbed. _

Rey didn’t try to deceive herself. Her mystery benefactor was a large man; missing hand or no, if he got the drop on her, her pipe and her teeth weren’t going to be much use. 

But nothing he’d done or said so far was a threat. And she couldn’t help remembering the way he’d flushed when he’d said he wanted to help her. 

The clerk had given him two keycards. They both sat on the little desk; whether he’d meant to or not, the man had left her the means to go out and come back if she chose. 

Rey’s life had not been rich in kindness to that point. Most of the people she’d known had been mean, or greedy, or just uncaring. Yet - 

_I don’t know why I trust him. But I do._ Disturbed he might be, but he’d shown no signs of violence. In fact, he’d been more respectful of her personal space than anyone she could remember. 

_And he’s still a better bet than going it on my own. At least right now._

Thoughtful, Rey settled herself more comfortably, and found a movie to watch that made at least a little sense without sound. 

Her gaze kept sliding back to the sheet-covered form on the other bed. Now that she had time to think, he was more of a mystery than ever, obviously far from wherever he called home and bearing the damage of some kind of accident. Rey had managed not to stare at his prosthesis, but she couldn’t help being curious as to how he’d lost his hand. 

_None of your business._

She was curious, too, about how he’d lost his memory - but again, it wasn’t something she could ask about, especially not when he was doing her a favor. And if he couldn’t remember anything, he couldn’t answer any questions about his arm. 

_Come to think of it, I don’t know if he’s lost his memory or just can’t remember his **name**._ But what did she know about amnesia? She didn’t even have a high-school diploma; Plutt had pulled her out of school at age sixteen so she could work full-time. 

The bitter anger was familiar, but this time she didn’t have to swallow it back. Rey had almost no money and definitely no idea of where she was going, but for the first time in her life she was _free_ and she was going to survive. 

And if this beginning was weirder than she’d expected, it wasn’t _bad_. The impulse to stop and help a stranger had paid off so far. 

Rey shut off the TV and let herself daydream, thinking about a decent-sized city where she could find work. Preferably as a mechanic, but she was willing to do just about anything that came to hand. 

Still, she was thoroughly bored by the time the light outside the curtains deepened and the man snuffled awake. She hadn’t quite wanted to make herself vulnerable in the shower, but she’d done a hasty cleanup with a washcloth at the sink, trying to move quietly; trust only went so far. 

The man shuffled into the bathroom again for what sounded like a marathon piss, and came out in another jeans and button-down combo. He grunted at her, more an acknowledgment than anything else, and sat on the bed to pull on his boots. Rey watched in fascination as he tied them neatly with one hand. _I didn’t know you could **do** that. _

When he stood up, he grabbed his bags and cocked his head at the door. Rey scrambled to get her own, and opened the door to the golden, scorching afternoon. 

She got three steps out before a hard hand grabbed her ponytail and yanked her half off her feet. 

* * *

He slept like falling into a pit. He couldn’t remember exactly what it had been like - well - before, but something in him seemed to feel bruised when he thought about sleeping, as if it had been bad. But if he dreamed, he couldn’t remember it, and he woke each afternoon clear-headed. 

He was somewhat surprised to see Rey still there, but also pleased. He didn’t know _why_ he was driving, but being useful to someone was a good thing. And a woman on her own was in a precarious spot, no matter how good she was at taking care of herself. 

He was following her out the door, thinking about where to get supper, when a bellow cut through the air, followed by a shriek. 

His mind took it in like a snapshot: a big man in dirty coveralls had a hand buried in Rey’s hair, the other fist raised to swing down in a hit. She was stumbling, bent over and about to lose her balance. 

He didn’t think. His body moved into action as if it had done this a thousand times, stepping forward to catch the descending arm and yank it. The man yelped, releasing Rey on reflex, and he continued the throw to lay the man out on the ground, planting a boot on his spine and bending down. _“What the hell do you think you’re doin’?”_

The man snarled and heaved, but he still had hold of that beefy wrist, and he tugged it higher until the man subsided. Glancing up, he saw Rey staring at them, still half-bent, her expression mixing fear and astonishment. 

“She belongs to _me,_ ” the man grunted. “She _owes_ me.” 

“I don’t owe you _shit,_ ” Rey spat, straightening and reaching for the pipe in her bag. 

“Worthless bitch.” The man’s gaze flicked up. “She spreading her legs for a ride? Careful she don’t shank you.” 

He saw red. Sliding his boot up the man’s spine, he shifted his grip and yanked, savoring the scream as the man’s thumb dislocated. “Shut up,” he snapped, keeping tension on the man’s arm, and looked at Rey again. “You okay?” 

She had the pipe out and looked ready to use it, though tears streaked her face - pain or fear, he didn’t know. “Yeah.” 

He had no idea what had happened between the two of them, but it didn’t matter. The asshole had tried to hurt Rey, and that would not stand. He moved his boot off the man’s spine and crouched, still gripping the man’s wrist. 

“Listen here,” he said coldly. “You’re gonna leave Rey alone from now on, got me? She’s walkin’ away and you will _not_ follow.” 

“She’s mine,” the man mumbled. “I brought her up - “ 

“Bull _shit,_ ” Rey snapped. “You starved me half to death - “ 

“You weren’t worth your keep, you greedy cunt!” 

_“Enough.”_ He straightened halfway and nudged his toe into the man’s ribs - not a kick, just a promise - then pressed his food back on the man’s spine. “You let her go, or you answer to _me._ ” 

The man grunted, and he chose to take it as agreement, if only because they were clearing out of town. But just to be on the safe side, he waved his prosthesis at Rey. “Keys. Right pocket.” 

She edged warily around the prone asshole, pipe at the ready, then dug her hand into his front pocket. It was a ticklish maneuver at best, but if she found it too intimate she didn’t show it, fishing the keys out and grabbing up the bags he didn’t remember dropping before darting towards his car. 

He crouched again, and pitched his voice to a croon. “I may be down to one hand, but I can still gut you with it.” He tugged on the man’s arm, prompting a groan. “Don’t test me.” 

The squeak of the car door opening made him look up. Rey was sliding into the passenger seat, and leaning over to jam the key in the ignition. He straightened, opening his hand to release the man’s strained arm, and walked away. 

As he thought, the man was in no shape to get up and pursue them. He swung into the driver’s seat and started the car without hurry, glancing over beyond Rey to see the man just managing to flop onto his back. He backed the car out smoothly, and glanced again at Rey. “You sure you’re all right?” 

“Son of a bitch tore out some hair,” she muttered, rubbing at the back of her head. “But that’s all.” 

He nodded, and headed for the highway. They still needed to eat, but he didn’t feel like stopping in Carlsbad and he doubted she did either. 

Rey was shivering, he could see it out of the corner of his eye. He let a few miles of highway unroll beneath them, waiting until her trembling stopped before speaking. “Is he gonna come after you again?” 

She leaned her head back against the headrest, face going sour. “I don’t know.” And then soft, uncertain. “Nobody’s - nobody’s ever stood up for me before. Against him.” 

“They should have.” The words escaped him without thought, and he set his jaw, staring out through the windshield. It was none of his business what the asshole had done to Rey in the past, though the thought of a helpless child growing up under the man’s thumb was sickening. 

She made a noise that was more acknowledgment than agreement, and fell silent, still rubbing absently at her scalp. The sun was reddening in front of them when she spoke again. “I need to call you _something_.” 

He had no answer for that, so he said nothing. 

“You have West Virginia plates,” Rey said musingly. “And you’re headed west. So I’ll call you that.” She glanced at him. “If that’s okay.” 

He shrugged. It wasn’t a bad name, at that, and he could see her point. 

“Thank you, West,” she said softly. “For what you did back there.” 

He felt his face heat up. “Y’welcome,” he managed. 

Rey settled back in her seat, undoing her ponytail despite the wind whipping in the open windows, and he concentrated on the road for a while. 

In the back of his head, though, he couldn’t help wondering where his body had learned how to _do_ that. If he’d _thought_ about it first, he would have just punched the asshole. But his reflexes had apparently had other ideas; and he could hardly argue with the results. 

But thinking too hard about it made that blankness threaten again, so he pushed the whole thing away, counting streetlights until he was calm again. 

The fact that he could still remember the name Rey had bestowed on him when they pulled into a truck stop was, he thought, a good sign. _West. Not bad._

He fueled up the car, handing Rey a twenty and asking her to get him some supper, and she disappeared into the food court with alacrity. By the time he’d parked and used the facilities, she was back with a bag for him and two for herself, as well as a grocery sack from the convenience shop. The change she returned told him that she’d used her own money for her meal, and he had to respect that even if it annoyed him on some level. 

“I drive all night,” he told her as they ate leaning against the car. “Figure I’ll stop in the morning like yesterday and get some more sleep.” 

“Where?” Rey asked around a mouthful of sandwich. 

“Dunno. I stop when I’m tired.” He half-expected her to ask what made him do it, but she just gave him a side-eye look and kept working her way through her meal. 

The sunset made him squint as they drove on; when he glanced to his right Rey had tucked herself into the corner between the seat and the window and was asleep despite the air pouring in. 

He didn’t smile, exactly, but something about him loosened as night bloomed over them both. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: 
> 
> 1\. Waffle World is a joint creation of [Cincoflex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cincoflex/) and myself. One of these years we really have to get t-shirts made up. 
> 
> 2\. I'm fudging drive times a lot in this story. But given traffic, construction, weather, etc., when is the estimated time between points A and B accurate? Also, our characters aren't always taking the most straightforward route.

Rey couldn’t say she slept _well_ , but despite the cramped position she dozed peacefully on and off as the car rumbled around them. Every time she opened her eyes, the view was the same, bare glimpses of highway and the disconnected frames of the vehicle interior, stars overhead and a gleam of silver from the ring on West’s hand. Sometimes she wasn’t sure if she was awake or dreaming of journeying, but it didn’t matter. They were safe, they were moving, Plutt couldn’t get to her. It was good. 

The cessation of movement woke her, at least part way, and Rey raised her head, blinking and rubbing at her stiff neck. “Where are we?” 

“Rest stop,” West said, and so it was, looking eerie and abandoned in the yellow glow of its lights. There were no other cars in the graveled parking lot. 

“Mm. ‘Nks.” She unfolded herself from the seat and staggered into the women’s side, still half-asleep and barely noticing West going into the men’s. It was a bare-bones sort of place, just facilities for those who couldn’t wait until the next town - more or less clean, but shabby and graffiti’d. 

Rey used the toilet and washed her hands, squinting at her face in the splotchy mirror. Her scalp was still sore when she prodded it, but she’d come out ahead on _that_ encounter, thanks to West. 

_I will treasure the image of Unkar on the ground again for as long as I live._ Not to mention the sound he’d made when West had done whatever he’d done to Plutt’s hand. 

Rey splashed her face, ran wet hands through her hair, opened the door - and jumped, because West was leaning against the wall just outside. _“Fuck!”_

He jerked and stepped back, face going a little pink. “Sorry! Sorry. I just - you hear stories, about places like this, an’ I wanted to make sure you was okay.” 

Rey pinched her eyes shut and exhaled, trying to calm the surge of adrenaline. “Shit. Okay. That makes sense.” She opened them again; West had moved about two yards back and was still pink, with an expression that reminded her of a begging puppy’s. “Thank you. I think.” 

He ducked his head awkwardly. Rey shook hers and stepped out, heading for the car. 

She leaned into the back to pull out her two spare shirts from her pack, wadding them up to serve as a pillow as West eased into the driver’s seat, and grabbed one of the bottles she’d filled at the truck stop water fountain. On impulse she got one of West’s as well, and after a moment’s thought removed the cap before wedging it into the space next to the gearshift. He gave her a nod of thanks, and Rey sat back to drink her water and grow drowsy again. 

Her gaze kept finding his profile, almost invisible in the darkness, but he didn’t seem to notice her staring. Her sleepy brain pored over the angles of his face, wondering what he’d look like if he smiled. He was so solemn that it was impossible to tell. 

When sleep took her, she dreamed of a deep cold lake set in rocky hills, and the trickle and plash of water. 

* * *

West didn’t stop until midmorning, when they reached Gallup. He took them through a drive-through for breakfast - _I got it, no sense confusin’ the clerk with two orders_ \- and looked around dubiously as he pulled out. 

“I gotta sleep,” he said again. “But this place is too small for you to stop in.” 

Rey had to agree with him. “I can pay for half the room,” she started, but West frowned so sharply that she stopped. 

“I’d get one anyway.” He turned back onto the street. “An’ it’s because of me that you’re - just lemme do this, all right?” 

If she’d had more saved up, Rey would have argued. But her hoard of cash was so pitifully small that she couldn’t bring herself to protest. She closed her mouth, and West nodded. 

It was a Motel 6, this time, and as West pulled up in front of the office Rey looked over at him. “You can get a single,” she pointed out. “I won’t be sleeping.” 

He pursed his lips but didn’t reply, sliding out of the car with only a hint of stiffness. He left the keys in the ignition, but took his satchel with him, which was puzzling. _I guess he trusts me not to run off with his car, at least._

West came back within five minutes and drove them around the side of the building. He’d gotten a double room after all, and repeated his routine of the day before, vanishing into the bathroom for a shower and reemerging in his shorts and t-shirt, hair damp. This time Rey saw the shadow of a tattoo on his uninjured arm, though she didn’t want to stare long enough to make it out. 

“They have a laundry room,” she told him, waving the worn amenities brochure she’d found in the desk. “I’m going to wash some stuff - want me to do yours too?” 

West’s mustache twitched, and for a moment she thought he’d refuse, but then he nodded again. “Just about everything in my bag could use it,” he said. 

“Right.” Rey slung her pack over her shoulder and scooped up one of the keycards, picking up his duffle as well. “Back in a couple of hours.” 

She wanted to get out before he could offer to pay for _that_ too, and succeeded, or maybe he was smart enough not to. Rey couldn’t help looking around warily for Plutt, though how he’d have followed them she didn’t know, but the parking lot was almost empty of cars and she couldn’t see another human being anywhere. 

The laundry room was at the end of the row of rooms, a small dank space that echoed and smelled of soap and mildew. Fortunately for Rey’s patience both the bill changer and the machine vending detergent worked, and she sorted the contents of both bags into a washer with a wrinkled nose. West was demonstrably a clean man, but dirty laundry was never improved by a hot car. 

_I wish I could wash what I’m wearing too._ But she hadn’t anything clean to change into; she’d come away with about three changes of clothes, which was just about as much as she’d ever had. 

The little room was at least cool, fed by the same air conditioning as the rest of the building, and Rey hopped up onto an empty dryer and swung her legs as she waited for the machine to cycle through. It felt strange to be idle; Unkar had filled her days with work, and she’d usually been too tired in the evenings to do more than spend a half-hour poaching Plutt’s wi-fi on the battered old laptop she’d coaxed to work. 

_I wonder what he’ll do now that I’m gone._

Rey had been under Plutt’s thumb since she was small. She couldn’t remember anything before Eunice, though old Maz had said her parents had come from somewhere else. Maz had done most of the raising of her, but she’d died when Rey was ten, and Plutt had claimed her for his garage and started teaching her to fix things. And since Plutt basically ran the town, no one had said a word about him using a child for free labor - or the bruises she sported as she got older. 

The way she figured it, Rey had had three things that had kept her from crumbling in Plutt’s grip - Maz’s kindness, a tiny hoard of books she’d hidden, and sheer stubbornness. She’d lost the first two, but the third had kept her going for years, squirreling away whatever coins and dollar bills she could find and planning for the day when she could leave Eunice behind. 

Rey sighed, pulling up her legs to sit tailor-fashion. She hadn’t planned to leave quite so abruptly, but things had changed. 

_I could deal with the bruises. Him getting all touchy-feely, not so much._

He’d made lewd comments for years, she was used to _that;_ but the groping was new, and far more terrifying than his smacking Rey around. The first time he’d done it, she’d been frozen with shock and horror. 

The _second_ time, she’d had her pipe within reach, and the sound he’d made when she’d slammed it up between his legs had been extremely satisfying. 

_Great way to burn all your bridges, though._ Rey hadn’t lingered; she’d grabbed the most precious of her few belongings, stuffed them in her pack, and bolted before Plutt had stopped spasming on the garage floor. She didn’t _regret_ it, by any means, but she’d hoped to leave under slightly more controlled circumstances. 

Now she was all the way across the state with a semi-stranger, along for the ride until they got someplace large enough for her to try her luck at finding work. It would have to be under the table, since she had no ID of any kind. _Hell, I don’t even know if I have a Social Security number._

But Rey knew she was good at what she did. Plutt’s garage didn’t have the most up to date tech, but she knew her way around just about every make of car short of a Tesla, and most big trucks as well. _Pretty sure I can survive._

The washer finally gurgled to a stop, and Rey hopped down to transfer its contents to a dryer. _I wonder if I can talk West into going all the way to Phoenix. Assuming he can **find** it. _

She wasn’t sure how West was navigating, or even if he was navigating at all. He didn’t seem to have a phone, and she hadn’t seen him look at a map either. _Maybe he just drives at random._

_I wonder what Maz would have made of him._

For a little bittersweet while Rey amused herself imagining the two of them meeting, the enigmatic stranger and the tiny woman whose iron-firm compassion had kept Rey’s spirit alive. Maz would have liked him, she thought; but it was hard to tell, now. Her memories faded more every year, and it had been over a decade. 

_Doesn’t matter,_ she told herself resolutely, scraping her hair back and securing it with an elastic. _She’d be glad I got away, and that’s all that counts._

When the clothes were dry Rey folded them, more out of boredom than because she was usually that careful, and put them back in the bags. There was still no one around when she made her way back to the room; it was almost eerie, except that she could hear the hum of cars on the highway just out of sight. 

West didn’t stir when she let herself back into the room. He somehow managed to look bigger while lying down; Rey supposed it was because the bed was barely long enough for him. _I wonder how often things are too small for him?_

This time she took her turn in the shower, though she used her pipe to jam the door shut as best as she could. It wouldn’t keep West out if he was determined to break in, but it would give her time to get out of the tub and defend herself. Not that she really thought he would do anything, but - _Still._

But he hadn’t moved when she came back out. Rey sat on the other bed, since it was more comfortable than the chair, and turned the TV on, muted again. _Wish I had a book._

She missed her little stack of treasures. They’d just been kid’s books, mostly gifts from Maz, but aside from school they’d been all the entertainment she’d had. _The Silver Chair, This Time of Darkness, Broom-Adelaide, So You Want to Be a Wizard_ \- Rey had escaped into their pages over and over again. 

It hadn’t even been Plutt who’d taken them from her; just a leaky roof unnoticed until the worn paperbacks were handfuls of pulp. And she’d never had a way to replace them. 

_Not that I would have spent the money anyway,_ Rey admitted ruefully. Not when every cent she could scrape up had to go towards her escape. 

She shifted restlessly. Rey was used to long days spent working hard; she was full of a nervous energy that had nowhere to go. Even if it hadn’t been so hot outside, Rey wasn’t going to go wander around; the odds were low that Plutt had traced them, but she wasn’t willing to risk it. _I could probably get away from him if I saw him coming, but what if he brought help?_

But there was nothing to do indoors but watch the silent TV. Rey pressed her back against the headboard, and resigned herself to fidgeting. 

* * *

It was only the second day - why did it feel like a routine? 

West couldn’t explain it. But rising just before sunset and finding Rey sitting crosslegged on the carpet reassembling the clock-radio felt - comfortable, somehow, which was ridiculous. West didn’t know what to do with comfort. 

But he didn’t know what to do with anything, really - trying to probe at his past only brought that nibbling blankness closer. 

“You did the laundry,” was all he said. “I’m buyin’ dinner.” 

Rey narrowed her eyes at him, but then looked back down at the device in her lap and snapped its case into place. “Okay.” 

They were out the door in thirty seconds, and West found a diner just down the road, because while he had no objections to fast food, some part of him was prompting that it was past time for vegetables. 

And it was very satisfying to watch Rey eat another huge meal, even if she eyed him uncertainly while placing her order. 

_A few weeks of this and she’ll stop looking so skinny,_ he thought approvingly, then blinked. 

Just as he had no past, he had not considered the future. There was only the road, and the need to keep going. 

And Rey had no future with _him._ He was just taking her to a nice big city where she could get work, that was all. Doing the right thing, _because_ it was the right thing. 

Which didn’t explain why, on leaving Gallup, he went straight west instead of veering north when he hit 93. Las Vegas was a big city with plenty of places to work; it was practically ideal for Rey’s purposes. 

But he didn’t take the exit. 

Rey was sound asleep lying across the back seat - even belted in, she’d said, it was more comfortable than sleeping in the front - and she never noticed. 

He had no excuse. No explanation. Just - he didn’t want to leave her behind. 

_This can’t go on,_ he told himself. _She’s runnin’ towards. You’re runnin’ away._

....How did he know that? 

His hand started to shake on the wheel. He hadn’t thought about it, _couldn’t_ think about it, but now - 

West clamped his jaw shut, nostrils flaring as he struggled to take in air. Looking around, he almost steered for the shoulder, but there were lights about a mile ahead, and the road was straight and empty. 

He dropped his speed and concentrated very hard on the painted lines until they reached the lights - another truck stop. Mostly shut down at that time of night, though the fast food place was open; but all he needed was a place to halt. 

West parked across a couple of spaces, turned off the engine, and tore off his seatbelt, springing out of the car to pace up and down and try to calm his racing heart. 

He didn’t know who he was. He didn’t know where he’d come from, or why he was running, or why he had a tattoo, or how he knew how to fight. 

_Hell, I don’t even know how I lost my hand._

He wore the silver horseshoe ring on his right hand because that was where it felt right, but he didn’t know where it came from or why he wore it. Or why he drove a car that was older than he was. Or why he had - 

“West?” 

He flinched, spinning to face the voice, braced to defend himself. Rey blinked sleepily at him from a few yards away, leaning on the car and rubbing her eyes. “You okay?” 

He swallowed, opened his mouth...and the truth fell out. “No.” 

She straightened and gave him a long look. “Let’s go get coffee.” 

There were no customers in the restaurant, just two bored employees playing with their phones. Rey ordered two cups of coffee and a pile of French fries, and they sat in the corner booth furthest from the counter. She pushed sugar packets across the table at him with firm assurance, folded a handful of fries into her mouth, and spoke around them. “Wass madder?” 

It should have been comical, but his heart was still pounding. West wrapped his hand around the cup, ignoring the heat stinging his palm, and stared at the tabletop. “I can’t remember anything.” 

In his peripheral vision Rey froze mid-chew, then resumed, swallowing her bite. “You mean _anything_? Or do you still remember the last few days?” 

“No. No, I ain’t lost them.” The cup creaked in his grip, and he loosened his fingers so he wouldn’t pop the lid and splash it everywhere. “But I don’t know who I _am._ ” 

“Mm.” She ate another few fries. “Yeah, that’s scary.” 

The simple acknowledgment seemed to loosen his constricted breathing, just a touch. He flexed the gripper of his prosthesis, a nervous movement; at least he remembered how to use it, like he remembered how to drive a car. “Don’t know why I’m running, neither.” 

“Probably because you had to.” When he looked up, Rey shrugged. “Nobody drives across the Southwest, in the summer, with no air conditioning, for _fun._ ” 

The startled cough that escaped him was almost a laugh. 

“How far back _do_ you remember?” Rey asked. 

West didn’t want to think about that too hard, but there was a big blue sign that wasn’t too close to the blankness. “Crossing into Mississippi. Maybe a week ago.” 

“Did you hit your head?” Rey continued. “Get sick?” 

“No...no. Don’t think so.” At least, he didn’t remember feeling like he’d _been_ sick, and he hadn’t noticed any lumps on his head. 

“Well, there has to be a reason.” Rey considered another fry, then bit it in half, shoving the basket towards West. He shook his head, and she pulled it back. 

“I can’t...I can’t _think_ about it.” He squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his hand around the back of his neck; his head didn’t _hurt_ , exactly, but it felt like it was going to come apart, his skull bones opening like some gruesome flower, and where had that image _come from_ \- 

“Then don’t.” 

The warm clasp on his left arm was startling. West opened his eyes to see Rey leaning across the table, holding his forearm right above the prosthesis. She caught his gaze, her stare serious but - still not frightened. How could she not be frightened? 

“Don’t think about it.” One corner of her mouth tucked in, a thoughtful look. “Maybe you just aren’t ready to.” 

“Don’t I scare you?” It was half a plea; he should, he _should_ scare her. He was a fucking _void._

She cocked her head. “No.” 

It was too much. West pulled back, putting his head down on the table, pressing his face into the cold plastic and trying to control his breathing. “ _I’m_ scared,” he mumbled. 

This time she took his hand, fingers lacing through his. “‘M not surprised.” 

The words were slightly muffled, as if spoken through another mouthful of fries, and for some reason the image loosened his frantic tension a little. 

West rolled his head to the side, looking blankly at the dark square of the window; part of him wanted to slide under the table and disappear, but Rey’s hand anchored him in place. 

“I don’t know why I’m running. I could have done somethin’ horrible.” There was, after all, the contents of his bag. 

“Maybe.” Rey sounded doubtful. “But you know what?” 

That made him lift his head to see her. “What?” 

She was indeed holding more fries. “All I know is the guy I met two days ago, and he’s been nice to me. Like, really nice. _Horrible_ doesn’t really fit.” 

She bit the end off one, and squeezed his hand. “If you can’t remember your name, I bet it’s more like something horrible happened to _you_.” 

He contemplated that for a moment. It didn’t ring any bells; but then, neither did the notion that he’d sinned somehow. It was all blank. 

“Maybe,” he echoed at last. The pressure in his skull was dropping; Rey’s casual lack of alarm made _no_ sense to him, but it was still somehow easing. 

“Mmm.” She took a sip from her cup. “Have some fries, food’ll help.” 

West’s stomach roiled at the thought, but the smell of the coffee he’d pushed aside was making his mouth water all the same. He pried up the lid and ripped open a sugar packet with his teeth, pouring it into the hot liquid. 

It was cheap and not exactly fresh, but the first swallow did help, steadying him down. He finally thought to glance over at the counter, but one employee was again staring at their phone, and the other seemed to be asleep, slumped on the counter. 

He hesitated, thinking long enough that most of the coffee was gone before he decided. Ducking out of the strap of his satchel, he set the bag on the table and opened the top. 

As he expected, Rey took the lift of his brows as an invitation, and leaned over to look. Her eyes sprang wide. _“Fuck.”_

West frowned, but the employees didn’t seem to have noticed the exclamation. He closed the bag just in case. “Still not scared?” 

Rey snorted, sitting back. “Maybe you robbed a bank or something.” 

It was a fairly logical conclusion, since the bag was nearly full of wads of cash, but - “Don’t think so.” 

Rey ate another fry. “Why not?” 

“It’s all random.” West didn’t know why he hadn’t thought it before; or maybe he had, and it had vanished like his name. “All mixed together. Bank would have it in stacks.” 

“I guess.” She ran a finger around the rim of her cup. “Look - if you wanted - you said you had a licence. I could look at it - see where you’re from, at least.” 

He could tell it was kindly meant, but the idea sent a chill up his spine. “No.” 

She nodded, face blank, and West wondered drearily if he was so lacking in words when he was in his right mind. “’S okay,” he managed to add, and Rey’s shoulders relaxed a little. 

He finished his coffee slowly, while Rey ate every crumb out of the fry basket. West found himself also wondering how much money _she_ had, but he wasn’t going to ask. _Better find her a good place soon._

“Guess you don’t want to stay here, wait for another lift?” he asked eventually, and she made that funny huffing sound again. 

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Her mouth was quirking, and - he couldn’t remember ever being teased before. The jibe made things just a little bit lighter. 

“S’pose not.” He set down his cup with a snap, and Rey swept the litter of cups and basket onto the tray, rising to deposit it in the trash can. 

“Give me a sec,” she said, jerking a thumb towards the restrooms, and West nodded. 

It felt dreamlike, waiting for her in the artificial light of the restaurant, as if there was nothing outside but a night that would never end. But he knew that was just the effect of being awake at oh-dark-hundred, and it would pass when the sun crept over the horizon. 

Rey didn’t climb into the back when they got back to the car; instead she resumed her slump in the passenger seat, makeshift pillow wedged under her cheek. West knew she meant it for comfort; and, strangely, it was. 

He pointed them towards California, and drove. 

* * *

Bakersfield was huge. 

Rey watched the hills appear on the horizon and the city coalesce out of the early morning light. It was larger than anything she’d seen before, bigger by far than Carlsbad and greener; nothing like the heavy woods of cooler places that she’d seen in books or on the Internet, but still a far cry from Eunice’s dusty flatness. She goggled at the busyness of it all, but the hills kept snagging her attention, a promise of something indefinable but alluring. 

“I bet I could find a job here,” she said absently, all but sticking her head out the window as West navigated the mid-morning traffic. She’d already spotted three garages and they’d only just entered the city. 

West didn’t answer, but she hadn’t really been talking to him anyway. Rey was torn between awe, elation, and a stomach-churning anxiety; to plunge into the vast sprawl that was Bakersfield was to bet everything on one throw of the dice. 

_But it was always going to be that way. You know that._ She had only ever had one chance. And If it felt too sudden, well, too bad. 

_This is what you’ve got. Deal._

West stopped for a red light and cleared his throat, and Rey swung around to look at him. “Let’s get breakfast,” he muttered, hardly loud enough for her to hear. “There’s somethin’ I want to ask you.” 

“Sure.” Rey was hardly going to object to one more meal, especially since she had a strong suspicion he was going to insist on paying again. Having seen the small fortune he was carrying around - _no wonder he sleeps with that bag -_ she felt less guilty about it. 

She’d wondered, between dozes last night, just what was going on with him. His mild freakout in the middle of the night had been worrying, but it seemed reasonable to her. Whatever had driven West into his brain-fog had to have been serious. _Maybe his mind’s trying to protect him._

He seemed to think she should be afraid of him, but _that_ was stupid. _All he’s done is help me_. Sure, he’d beaten Plutt’s ass, but he hadn’t done a thing to _her._

_I wish I could help **him**._

But Rey couldn’t see how. She knew nothing about amnesia or psychology or any of it, and she wasn’t even going to be around him for much longer. Whatever was driving him was going to take him out of her life as abruptly as he’d entered it, and she’d never see him again. 

She wasn’t sure why the notion put a lump in her throat. _I’ve only known him three days._

Maybe it was just because simple kindness had been so rare in her life, particularly since Maz’s death; and yet, some part of her still really wanted to see what he looked like when he smiled. 

Rey wrenched her mind back on track, taking in the city as much as she could. She couldn’t afford a motel room, but it was warm, she could sleep rough for a night or two. _Maybe find a shelter. If I can find a library, get on the Internet..._

West found another Waffle World, this one busier than the last, but they didn’t have to wait for a table. His mouth was firmly shut, so Rey didn’t press him, figuring he’d speak when he was ready. _Not that he speaks much to begin with._

The server brought coffee and took their order, and still West said nothing, staring out the window. His prosthesis kept opening and closing, and Rey wondered if it was the equivalent of a nervous fidget; it made an almost hydraulic noise, and idly she tried to figure out how the thing worked. 

“Got a proposal for you,” West said abruptly, and Rey turned her attention to his face, which was maybe a little more blank than usual. 

“What is it?” Rey peeled open a little pot of half and half and dumped it in her coffee. 

“Don’t stay here.” 

Rey blinked. “What?” 

West met her eyes. “Keep goin’ with me. There’s bigger places up north. Better for you.” 

“...What?” she asked again, not because she didn’t understand, but because she hadn’t _expected_ it. _I thought...I thought he’d be relieved to drop me off._

“Reno. Portland, Seattle maybe. Bigger than here.” He snapped his mouth shut again. 

Rey gaped at him. Her plan had always been “get far enough away from Plutt to a big enough city to find work”. She’d planned on Albuquerque, maybe, or Dallas; she’d never thought to get as far as Las Vegas, let alone Bakersfield. 

_San Jose. San Francisco. Oregon, Washington -_ They were myths to Rey, images she’d seen in passing, places as far out of her reach as Mars. The idea of just _seeing_ any one of them was dizzying; the idea of settling in one, of _living_ there, seemed as impossible as having Maz back, of finding her parents. 

“I - I can’t afford that,” she stammered at last. She could keep feeding herself for a while, but it would bite too deeply into her savings. She needed a cushion to survive on while she looked for work and a place to stay. 

West didn’t look away. “I c’n cover you.” His mustache twitched. “You know it won’t hurt me any.” 

“But - _why_?” Rey pressed her palms to the slick surface of the table, wood varnished so thickly it might as well be plastic. “What do you get out of it?” 

Because kindness was one thing, but _this_ was another thing entirely. Taking on a hitchhiker, even buying her a few meals, could be put down to gratitude for fixing his car, topped with a little generosity. This - this was way more than that. 

A worm of doubt coiled in her belly. Had she been wrong about him all along? 

“I - “ He scrubbed his palm over his mouth. “If I take you up there, I’m not running.” 

Rey had to parse that out. _It would give him a goal?_

It made a certain sense. But - “What would you want from me?” 

West straightened, indignant. “Nothin’! I wouldn’t ask - no.” His brows jumped, expression changing too quickly for her to make out what he was feeling. “You’d be doing something for _me._ ” 

Before she had to figure out what to say, the server arrived with their meals, and dealing with that gave Rey a chance to think. 

West was shoving his bacon aside - _why_ did he order the stuff when he never ate it? - and not looking at her. Rey cut into her waffle. “Let me think about it a minute.” 

She wasn’t expecting a reply. Rey ate steadily - she’d ordered a lot, even for her, figuring it was going to be her last guaranteed meal for a while - and turned West’s request over in her mind. 

On the surface, it wasn’t smart; however West behaved, he clearly wasn’t mentally stable, and she really had no business staying with him, particularly for long stretches when she would probably be asleep. True, he’d offered her no harm whatsoever, but if he lost his grip entirely while driving he could kill them both in a blink merely by driving into a guardrail. 

But - she’d wanted to help him. She did owe him, though Rey was pretty sure it was a debt he would never call in. And he was offering to take her farther than she’d ever dreamed she could go. 

_So far I’ve won all my bets. Might as well place one more._

“Okay,” she said abruptly, and West’s gaze snapped up to meet hers. “Let’s do this.” 

And that, Rey thought, was what he looked like when he smiled. Just a little curl of his lips, half-hidden by his mustache, but the light in his eyes was startling. 

She couldn’t help smiling back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the books in this chapter exist, and they're all terrific (though none are new). 
> 
> _The Silver Chair_ \- C.S. Lewis (Book 4 of the Chronicles of Narnia) (Yes, I use the old numbering system.)
> 
>  _This Time of Darkness_ \- H.M. Hoover; one of her better-known works. 
> 
> _Broom-Adelaide_ \- Barbara C. Freeman; decades out of print but her works are delightful.
> 
>  _So You Want to Be a Wizard_ \- Diane Duane, first of the Young Wizards series, which is _amazing_. Look 'em up.


	3. Chapter 3

For the first time that he could remember, West dreamed - and all his dreams were bad. 

The details fled as soon as he opened his eyes, gasping, but the gluey horror of them lingered. He kept dropping back into sleep only to wake again, echoes of screaming dissolving in his mind. 

Rey wasn’t there; she’d decided to spend the day looking around. Partly for the exercise, she’d said, but also just because she wanted to see the city. West was grateful; it was bad enough listening to his own whimpers choking in his throat, without having someone else there to witness them. 

He tried not to dwell on the pulse of disappointment he felt every time he saw the empty bed a few feet away. 

Eventually his brain let him rest, but he still woke groggy and tired. Even the sight of Rey coming through the door did little besides offering a slight sense of relief - until she held out a large paper cup of coffee. 

“I remembered the sugar,” she told him cheerfully. “Ready to go?” 

And just like that, he was. 

They got sandwiches at a deli, and the only reason West was willing to stop to eat them was because driving and eating a Reuben at the same time was a recipe for disaster, or at least a shirt-pocket full of dressing. Yet the urgency that pushed him wasn’t the need to go and keep going; it was the desire to find the perfect place for Rey. 

He was no longer adrift - he had a purpose. 

West knew it was temporary, that all he’d done was give the next few days a framework. But it was more than he’d had before, and he found himself looking forward to showing Rey the cities that he knew were out there, full of possibility. 

_You don’t even know if you’ve seen them yourself,_ he thought, but it didn’t seem to matter. Rey needed a _good_ place to live and work, and he could help her to it. It was fitting. 

He didn’t think about what would happen to him when she found her place. It didn’t quite bring back the blankness, but West could tell that was a path to it, so he left it strictly alone. 

After all, he’d been living day to day - or night to night - for as long as he could remember. He could go back to it if he had to. 

Rey chose to sit in the passenger seat again when they left Bakersfield behind, the setting sun peering in the driver’s side and the road lined with blossoming bushes. 

“They’re so pretty! Do you know what they are?” She kept turning her head to watch as they passed. 

“Nope.” In fact, West had yet to recognize any kind of plant life they’d seen, besides grass, but he had no idea if it was because it was all unfamiliar or because he just didn’t care about greenery enough to learn the names for anything. He skated away from the thought uneasily, but even that wasn’t enough to dim his mood. 

Rey was smiling, absorbed by the new sights; the elation made her prettier, he thought absently. Well-fed, far from the man who’d abused her, the bruises faded from her forearms - it was almost like watching a flower blossom. 

At that, he snorted silently. _Had no idea I was so fanciful._

Rey was hardly a tender bloom, anyway; she was tough, had to be to survive whatever she’d gone through and come out as kind as she was. For the first time, curiosity stirred. 

“Can I ask you a question?” He kept his eyes on the road, though he could see her turn to look at him out of the corner of his eye. 

“Sure. I might not answer, though.” Rey sounded amused. 

“How’d you end up working for that asshole?” 

She let out a sharp breath. “Everyone in that town works for Plutt, one way or another.” 

West didn’t push, but after a moment she went on. “According to - to Maz, she used to own the bar - my parents were passing through, and they left me behind. Nobody knows if it was on purpose or by accident, or maybe Plutt had something on them, though why he’d want a little kid I don’t know.” 

The rage that gripped him was the same he’d felt when he’d first seen those fingermarks on her arms. Rey’s voice was casual as she went on, but he could hear the tension underneath. 

“Maz kind of took me in, but Plutt had me working almost as soon as I could lift a tool, nearly all my time outside of school. I started in his scrap pile scavenging for useful parts, but when I learned how to fix engines he moved me to the garage.” 

West glanced over. She was leaning her elbow on the edge of the open window, her hand half-cupped over her mouth as if she wanted to keep the words inside. 

“That ain’t right.” He somehow managed to keep his tone even. 

Rey’s laugh held no humor. “Tell me about it. But that’s how it is there.” She looked away out the side window, speaking so softly he almost couldn’t hear her. “Somehow I kept the accent, but I don’t even know my own last name.” 

West concentrated on his driving; the light was beginning to fade, and darkness and anger were a dangerous mix. “When you get settled maybe you can look for ‘em,” he said after a while. “Your parents.” 

Rey shrugged. “Maybe. I spent years thinking they’d come back for me, you know. I might still be waiting if Plutt hadn’t - pushed.” 

This time her laugh was genuine. “I got him in the junk with my pipe, grabbed my stuff, and left.” 

The smirk that stretched his lips didn’t relieve the anger, but West wasn’t at all surprised by her words. “Good.” 

Traditionally, he supposed, he was expected to offer his own story in exchange, but even trying to think more than a few days back made his heart start to race. But Rey asked no questions, just relaxing back into the seat and scraping wayward strands of hair out of her face. 

“What will you do when I find a place?” she asked when the first stars were appearing overhead. 

Blankness. “Don’t know,” West said; it was the only truth he had. 

“We’ll worry about it then,” Rey said, and the simple assumption that it would be _her_ worry too made his throat tighten. 

It wouldn’t be, of course; he wasn’t her burden, couldn’t be. But...it still felt good. 

They paused for gas around midnight, and Rey climbed into the back to sleep again. West stayed at a reasonable speed, going north; there was no reason to hurry, and when he had to turn off the highway for a detour, it didn’t annoy him. 

They had time. 

* * *

They reached San Jose around dawn. West drove slowly into the city, Rey still asleep in the back, and cruised around for a little while, observing. He’d find a place for breakfast soon enough, and then somewhere for him to sleep and Rey to wash up; and then, he supposed, she would go out and look around, to see if the city was somewhere she wanted to stay. 

It looked too shiny, too _expensive,_ some part of him muttered resentfully. Silicon Valley might not be the best place for someone without any official ID to try to make a living. 

But it wasn’t his choice to make. 

West pulled over as an ambulance came up behind them, waiting for it to pass, and heard Rey stir as the sound woke her. “Where are we?” she mumbled. 

“San Jose. Going to stop here for the day.” He slid back into the center lane and kept going, but a quick glance in the rear-view mirror showed a tousled Rey sitting up with her mouth open as she stared around them. 

“I feel like I walked into a video game,” she muttered. “This is _insane._ ” 

West kind of agreed with her; one thing he _did_ know about himself was that he didn’t really care for big cities, or at least that’s what he’d found out while driving. _Though it could just be the traffic._

He had no phone or map, but it didn’t take either to watch their surroundings and work his way from the highrises of downtown to a neighborhood a little less plush. The cost of a room for the day was still more than twice what he’d paid anywhere else, but West was expecting that, and he could certainly afford it. There were no doubt cheaper places further out, but that would be too far for Rey to get back to the best areas for her to consider. 

He was almost tempted to give her his keys and tell her to take the car for the day, but the idea of being without it made a strange small bubble of panic form behind his breastbone. _No license,_ he reminded himself hastily. _Hell, you don’t even know if she can drive._

The motel, the first one they’d stayed at whose doors opened to corridors instead of the outside, made Rey’s eyes widen almost as much as the city itself; but she hitched her pack higher and raised her chin, and West had to bite back a chuckle lest she think he was laughing at her. _This woman. Nothin’s gonna stop her._

They ate breakfast at a cafe down the street from the motel. It was a nice little place, but Rey only ordered a pancake platter, and West eyed her plate skeptically when the server set it down. “Somethin’ bothering you?” 

Rey shrugged, picking up the syrup packet and tearing it open. “I...it’s kind of intimidating. The city, I mean.” 

“I suppose.” West punctured a fried egg with his fork. “We don’t gotta stay.” 

She looked up quickly. “No! No, I should at least look around.” 

He nodded, sopping toast in the yolk. Rey drizzled her pancakes with the syrup. “It’s just weird. But I guess with a place this big there’s more possibilities.” 

“We can stay longer than a day if you want,” West offered, a little surprised at the words coming out of his mouth. 

“Oh - well - I don’t know yet.” Rey glanced out the window. “I feel like a lizard in the middle of the road, you know? Wrong place and all exposed.” 

West bit into his toast. _You’re smarter than that,_ he wanted to say. Or _you can make it your place if you want to._ But those were just his own thoughts, he wouldn’t trouble her with them. 

“Still.” Her chin firmed again. “I’ll look around. Who knows, maybe I’ll end up falling in love with it.” 

She flashed him a half-hearted smile, and reached for the butter. 

He slept badly again, for all the bed was more comfortable and the air conditioning didn’t smell like old socks. West didn’t wake this time, but nightmares tore at him, vivid flashes of horror he couldn’t remember when he finally did pull himself out of bed. It was like being teased by a tune that fled when one tried to focus on it - familiarity that wouldn’t come clear - and he tried not to worry at it like picking at a scar. Trying to remember was a bad idea. He was safer not knowing. 

Rey came in just as West was tying his bootlaces. She had a cup of coffee for him again, and wore a slightly grim expression. “Let’s not stay another day,” she said, handing him the cup. “I don’t know what it is about this place, but I’d rather keep looking.” 

West nodded and took a gulp of the sweet stuff. “I need to get gas.” 

Rey pulled off her hair elastic. “Can I shower really quick? I can meet you outside.” 

He nodded again and left her to it, impatient to be moving again, out on the highway and away from the nightmares. Fueling the car was a matter of a few minutes’ work, and West pulled back into the motel lot, idling and waiting for Rey. This motel was busier, with people and cars coming and going; three families with kids on their way to the pool across the lot, two older women arm in arm, a tall blond man with a hard tan who kept looking down at his phone. West wondered if he was going to walk into something. 

He didn’t grudge Rey the time, but he didn’t want to go back to the room either, not when she didn’t want to stay in this too-shiny city. West had to admit that he was relieved she wanted to move on. _Doesn’t fit her, not really._

And there she was, striding through the lobby doors with her pack on her shoulder, wet hair bound up. West was about to lean over to open the door for her when someone spoke. “Logan?” 

The blond man was standing next to West’s rolled-down window, eyes fixed on his face with a look of friendly concern. “What are you doing, soldier? Your family’s worried about you.” 

_Soldier._

_Logan._

The blankness surged up, and he was gone. 

* * *

_How funny to have a choice._

Rey stepped off the bus across the street from the motel, hot and footsore. She’d spent the day roaming around the city with the help of friendly bus drivers and a crumpled tourist map she’d pulled from a trash bin; buying the one-day pass had been a hard decision, but in the end, Rey decided, it had been worth it. _This isn’t the place for me._

She’d lunched on a bag of chips and nasty-tasting water from a public fountain, wishing she’d eaten more for breakfast, but the savings had offset the bus pass purchase somewhat. And while she figured West would pay for supper on the way out of the city like he always did, she found she was looking forward to seeing him just as much as she was to filling her stomach. She might not always have enjoyed the company, growing up in Eunice, but Rey wasn’t used to being _alone._ Certainly not in the middle of the day. There were plenty of people around on the busy streets, but they were all strangers. 

But thanks to West’s strange generosity, Rey could say _no_ to San Jose and try somewhere else. _Where_ , she didn’t know; but there were plenty of possibilities. _I kind of like the sound of Seattle..._

She stopped at the closest convenience store for West’s coffee - it seemed the least she could do - and headed back to the motel room. _If he’s not up I can stick it in that microwave later._

Rey shook her head over the fact that the room had both a fridge and a microwave, and crossed the street with care. 

But he was up when she opened the door, almost ready to go from the look of him, though he was all but frowning. 

Rey held out the cup. “Let’s not stay another day.” She grimaced. “I don’t know what it is about this place, but I’d rather keep looking.” 

West nodded. “I need to get gas,” he said, and Rey reached back to undo her ponytail. She felt sweaty and gross. 

“Can I shower really quick? I can meet you outside.” 

She was good at washing fast. Rey scrambled in and out of the water and into clean clothes, hesitating before sweeping the little half-used bottles of shampoo and so forth into her bag. _They’re just going to throw them out anyway, aren’t they?_

For all her speed, West was waiting, blinkers on, when she came out of the building, though he didn’t look impatient and Rey knew he was hardly going to yell at her. She was about ten yards from the car when someone tall stepped up to the other side, bending to speak to West. 

It was just close enough for her to see West turn greenish-white, eyes going wide. He slammed the car into gear with a jerk and floored the accelerator, roaring across the parking lot and out the exit so quickly that Rey almost couldn’t take it in. She was left gaping at the sight of his still-blinking taillights vanishing around the corner, gone far too fast to chase. 

The man who’d spoken to him looked just as stunned as she felt, but Rey’s astonishment gave way to a sudden fury. She grabbed the pipe from her pack and advanced on him. “What the _fuck_ did you _say_ to him?” 

The blond took a reflexive step backward. “What? Miss - “ 

Rey jabbed the pipe in his direction, threatening. “What did you _do_? Why’d he take off like that?” 

The man straightened. “Miss, I’m just trying to help. Who are you?” 

He had wide shoulders and a very erect spine, and now a hard expression to boot, but Rey had dealt with Plutt and his cronies for _years._ “I’m his friend. Answer the fucking question!” 

The man hesitated, glancing down at his phone. “All right. I just told him his family was worried about him.” A frown creased his brow, concern rather than anger. “I didn’t expect...” 

Rey started. “You know his family?” She lowered the pipe. “Who are you? How’d you _find_ him?” 

The man hesitated, then raised a hand. “Just a moment.” 

He thumbed his phone and lifted it to his ear, and Rey didn’t pay attention to his conversation, instead peering in the direction West had vanished. Anger was giving way to alarm, and a growing pit in her stomach. 

_What if he doesn’t come back?_

“Mm-hm,” the tall man said. “Okay.” He closed the call. “Miss, maybe we should talk.” 

Rey looked him up and down, considering, then jerked a nod. “Maybe we should.” She stuffed the pipe back in her pack. “So talk.” 

The man huffed softly. “Tom Bailey. And you?” 

“Rey.” She folded her arms pointedly. He just looked amused, which didn’t help her temper, but he opened one hand in a conceding gesture. 

“Mr. Logan has been missing from his home for just over two weeks. His family is extremely worried about him, and reached out to some of his old Army buddies to see if anyone knew his whereabouts; they reached out to others, and eventually we had quite a network going, everyone keeping an eye out for him.” He cocked his head. “Your turn.” 

_Mr. Logan._ Not a name she would have guessed. Rey pursed her lips, considering, and finally gave him the truth, or at least the bare bones of it. “I fixed his car for him, and he gave me a lift.” 

“And now you’re friends?” At her glare, he raised his hands. “I’m not judging. In fact, from what I’ve heard about the man he’s very - generous.” 

“I wasn’t sleeping with him,” Rey snapped. The implication behind his words made her skin crawl. “He offered the lift.” 

She rubbed her forehead, still seeing West’s face going so pale. “I don’t know why he took off like that.” 

Except, she thought dismally, she probably did. Hearing his own name, if Bailey had used it, had most likely triggered his memory loss again. Whatever had chased him across the country was right behind him once more. 

“Well, at least we know he’s alive,” Bailey said, half to himself. “And we have a location to focus on.” 

“He’ll drive all night,” Rey found herself saying. “You won’t catch him.” The desolation swelled up, burning her throat. It was half worry for West - _Logan_ \- and half hurt at being abandoned, even though she was almost certain he’d hadn’t had a choice about it. 

And now she was stuck here, in this awful hard city. _It’s better than Plutt,_ Rey reminded herself fiercely. _Better than most of the places you might have ended up. You got a whole lot farther than you would have hitching, so make the most of it._

“We’re determined,” Bailey said easily. “Soldiers look out for each other.” 

That might be true, but there was a whole lot of places where there weren’t any soldiers, Rey knew. Like Eunice, and all the miles of barren highway that netted the country. _West, you had better be okay._

“I hope you find him,” she said, and it was the truth. Part of her was itching to ask Bailey for more information - Logan’s family, his home, what might have made him leave in the first place - but she couldn’t figure out how to ask without revealing that West had lost his memory, and something about Bailey made her close her lips over that. It was West’s secret, and not hers to give to a stranger. 

_I don’t even know if it’s still true,_ she told herself mendaciously. _Maybe he remembered, and **that’s** why he ran. _

“I hope we do too.” Bailey sounded sincere, but the speculative way that he was looking at Rey set her teeth on edge. 

She hitched her pack a little higher. “Good luck,” she added awkwardly, and walked away, ignoring Bailey’s _Miss...?_

_It’s not his fault,_ she told herself as she headed across the parking lot, but she couldn’t help resenting him for hurting West. Rey squinted, trying to decide where to go, when Bailey stepped up beside her. 

“Look, can I have your phone number, in case he gets in touch with you? Or in case we find him,” he added. “Don’t you want to know if he’s safe?” 

He sounded faintly skeptical, and Rey gave him a cold stare. “I don’t have a phone.” 

She turned her back on his surprised look, and walked away, pride stinging too much to tell him she had no place to go and no way to get in touch with anyone. 

West had turned right out of the lot. Rey picked that direction and started walking. _Maybe he got a few blocks and hit a stoplight, and settled down._

She didn’t really believe it, but something in her was compelled to look anyway, searching for a vintage car driven by a guy with one hand, with West Virginia plates and a patina of dust from at least three states. Rey didn’t know how many blocks she walked, scanning the traffic, but eventually it got dark, and the streetlights drained the color from passing cars. 

Her feet hurt and her eyes burned. Rey slowed, and stopped, and looked around. 

The neighborhood was far from the tall buildings of downtown, but it wasn’t bad; lots of little shops and the occasional pocket park. Expensive, no doubt, but her traitor stomach was already used to eating full-sized meals and it was complaining. 

She rubbed her eyes, took a deep breath, and turned around. _You can’t help him now. You have to survive._

It still hurt. 

* * *

Rey had to walk another six blocks to find a place that looked cheap enough for her budget, such as it was. The Chinese restaurant was clearly set up more for takeout, but there were a few tables along the wall, and Rey claimed one of them, sliding onto the long bench and setting down her tray of fried rice and egg rolls. She forced herself to slow down halfway through the meal, sitting back with a sigh; she would need to find someplace to spend the night, but her feet still needed time to recover a bit. Her sneakers hadn’t been in the best shape even before she’d fled Eunice, and they were definitely showing their age now. 

Her pack kept trying to fall off the bench. She hadn’t packed it well that afternoon after her shower, expecting to put it in the Pontiac’s trunk as usual, and the pipe was sticking out at an angle that meant she was going to catch it on something sooner or later. 

Rey looked around, but the staff was all busy behind the counter and there was no one else eating in. She opened up the pack and started pulling out her meager belongings, intending to empty it and start over, but an unfamiliar wad of paper met her hand. 

_What the..._

It was a long envelope she’d never seen before, printed with the return address of the motel they’d stayed at that day. Scrawled on the front in handwriting she didn’t know were the words _IN CASE YOU STAY._

Rey lifted the flap, and hiccuped in shock. 

The stack of cash inside was thicker than her thumb. She pinched the envelope shut with a quick movement, shoving it back into her pack and lifting her head with what she hoped was a casual air. Nobody seemed to be paying any attention, and Rey ate another few bites of food before taking another look. 

The worn bills had been organized, unlike the mix in West’s bag; easy to count. The total made her head swim. 

_A thousand dollars. He gave me a thousand fucking dollars._

Rey ate the rest of her dinner mechanically, torn between the sting to her pride and a nearly overwhelming sense of relief. 

_He must have put it in there while I was out looking around._

If West hadn’t disappeared, Rey might have refused the money; he’d already done so much for her, despite his argument that driving her around was for _him_. 

But he was gone. She couldn’t hand the envelope back. She couldn’t even thank him. 

Rey was practical; she’d had to be, to survive. And while she knew very little about cities, she was quite aware that San Jose could chew her to pieces with very little effort. What she’d managed to save over the years would last her only a few days here, and while she was pretty sure she could find work of some kind eventually, there was no guarantee that her hoarded money would stretch that far. 

Rey was used to hunger. She knew she could survive on what she could scavenge, if she had to. Finding a safe place to sleep worried her more. 

_There’s probably homeless shelters. Or maybe I can find a really cheap motel. I could afford it, with this._ Assuming, of course, that she could get a room without having to show the ID she didn’t possess. 

But it was late, and Rey didn’t know where to find anything, and she felt hollow and tired and sad. She repacked her bag with care, casually slipping the envelope into her worn excuse for a bra, and threw away her trash before heading out the door. 

It took more walking, until she was limping and biting her lip, but Rey found an all-night cafe and ordered coffee and a slice of cake. It wasn’t busy; the server refilled her cup twice and didn’t bother Rey when she drifted into a doze, leaning into the corner of her booth. From what she’d seen before she’d closed her eyes, she wasn’t the only one snoozing. 

She left the cafe around five in the morning, feeling like she’d been rolled flat and left to dry; but at least her feet felt better. A bus stop bench was a handy spot to watch the sun come up. 

_First priority: find a job_. West’s money might be a lifeline, but even that wouldn’t last forever. 

But to do that, she needed information. And for _that_ , Rey needed a phone. 

She’d never had one; even if she’d been willing to spend the money, it would just have been another thing for Plutt to take away when he felt like it. Rey had left the old laptop behind when she’d run - it was heavy, and had to be plugged in to work, and in the end she’d decided she couldn’t afford the weight in her pack. 

Now, though... 

She’d seen disposable phones for sale in the convenience store near the motel. _That’s as good a place as any. And...maybe he’s come back._

Rey knew it was probably a futile hope. She’d only gotten the one glimpse of West’s face before he’d fled, but he’d looked _awful_. Worse than when they’d first met. _He’s probably still going, somewhere out there._

But she couldn’t help it. _Just a quick look. To make sure._

It wasn’t hard to find her way back; Rey still had the tourist map, and got the help of another friendly bus driver. Buying the phone was easy, and it even had some charge, enough for her to turn it on and set it up. 

“Okay,” Rey muttered, dropping the phone in her pocket and heading up the street towards the motel. “One look. Then you move on.” 

A horn sounded behind her as Rey headed towards the motel’s parking lot, but she ignored it; the city traffic was noisy. The shout of her name, however, made her spin around, alarm spiking. _Fuck!_

She knew it wasn’t West, the voice was all wrong. Rey groped for her pipe, wondering wildly if Plutt had somehow managed to trace her all this way, but it was the tall man from the day before, waving out his car window. “Rey! Wait!” 

Her fear gave way to a surge of hope. _Maybe they found him?_

Bailey swung the car to the curb next to her and put on his blinkers, and Rey shoved the pipe back in her pack. “Did you find him?” 

Bailey didn’t reply; instead, the passenger door opened. 

The woman who emerged was young and brunette and pretty, and had the sharpest eyes Rey had seen since Maz’s death. “This is Miss Mellie Logan,” Bailey said. “We were hoping to find you, she’s got some questions for you.” 

“You’ve seen my brother?” the woman asked, gaze fixed on Rey. 

Rey blinked. Mellie Logan didn’t look a thing like West, but she had the same intensity behind her eyes, and Rey could all but feel the force of her worry. “Yeah. Yeah, I have.” 

The woman nodded once, sharply. “Then let’s find somewhere to talk.” 

* * *

They ended up in a room in the same motel. “As soon as Major Bailey called yesterday I booked a flight,” _oh-honey-call-me-Mellie_ said as she rolled her suitcase into a corner, flicking a hand at the little table next to the window. “I just landed ‘bout an hour ago; seemed like this was the best place to go.” 

Her accent was almost as thick as her brother’s. Rey sat gingerly at the table, watching warily as Mellie pounced on the coffeemaker, whisked the pot into the bathroom to fill it, and started it brewing. Bailey had been dismissed with thanks, though he’d promised to come back later with food. 

Mellie dropped into the chair opposite, and while she was somehow unrumpled by travel, Rey could see that she was desperately tired as well as worried. “Is he okay?” 

Rey bit her lip. “He was, I guess. Until Bailey said whatever he said.” 

Mellie blew out a breath. “Yeah, that’s part of what I don’t understand about all this. Hell, I don’t understand _any_ of it.” 

She propped her arms on the table. “Clyde has his issues, but it’s not like him to just...disappear like this.” 

_Clyde_. _Really?_ Rey grappled with the name for a moment, trying to fit it to the man she knew, then let it go and moved on. “Has he lost his memory, um, before?” 

Mellie went still, gaze fastening on Rey until she felt like a lizard under the eye of a hawk. “I think,” she said after a moment, “that you oughta start at the beginning.” 

_She’s his sister. She has a right to know._ Rey looked down at her hands, which were clasped in a tight knot. “I was looking for a ride...” 

The story didn’t take long to tell, boiled down to its essentials; halfway through Mellie got up to pour them both coffee, dumping the little selection of sweeteners and creamers on the table between them, but she didn’t interrupt. 

Rey didn’t mention the bag full of money. _I don’t know where he got it, or when. It might not be something he wants his sister to know about._ And, perforce, she didn’t mention the envelope he’d slipped into her bag either. But she did have to explain that he’d insisted on taking her to her choice of cities, and that was why she was still with him - until the day before. 

Mellie was silent for a long minute when Rey finished; she hunched over her cup, though Rey was pretty sure it was empty. “That sounds just like Clyde,” she said at last, exasperated and fond. “I suppose it’s good to know he’s still got a heart under that stone face, even when he ain’t got his memories.” 

“He’s all heart,” Rey murmured, swallowing back a lump in her throat. It was hitting her hard, for some reason; but coffee or not she was running on little sleep, and her last proper meal had been the Chinese food the night before. “Can you - tell me about him?” 

Mellie sat back in her chair. “Guess you deserve to know,” she said, smiling a little. “He’s West Virginian born and bred like me and Jimmy - that’s our older brother - he couldn’t come ‘cause he’s looking after his daughter right now. Clyde loves his books, always been kind of a nerd.” 

She ran a careful hand through her hair. Mellie’s nails were long and colorful, at odds with her quiet blouse and slacks; Rey had to wonder how she did things with her hands like that. _Cleaner than mine, though; I can never get all the grease off._

“He joined the Army straight outta high school, and did two tours in Iraq; that’s where he lost the arm, I’m sure you were wonderin’.” There was no condemnation in Mellie’s voice, and Rey shrugged; it’s not like she could help being curious. 

“He kind of got hung up on our family curse when he came back. Runs a bar on the highway, lives by himself since Jimmy moved. To be honest, I don’t know how he spends his time, except that he lives quiet.” Mellie sighed, the fatigue etching lines in her face. “I could see him deciding to take a road trip, maybe, but not without _tellin’_ us. And not leaving his cell phone behind like that.” 

Rey tried to picture West - her mind kept defaulting to the name she’d bestowed on him - tending bar, one hand or no. _He’d be good at it,_ she thought, remembering the dexterity with which he’d tied his boots. 

“Something happened to him,” she said slowly. “He didn’t remember what it was, but something made him keep driving. But I think - I think he was getting better, until...” 

She was still irrationally angry at Bailey, though Rey supposed there was no way to have predicted what had happened. And at least he had given West’s sister a trail to follow. 

Mellie rubbed her temples. “Well, we’re closer than we were.” She grimaced. “Jimmy asked the cops to put out an alert for Clyde, but _they_ said if he weren’t in danger he was free to go where he wanted. Jimmy had words with them,” she added, smirking a little. 

Rey wondered if Jimmy was tall and rawboned too, and what kind of family had produced two such different people. “Are - do your parents know?” 

Mellie dropped her hands. “They both passed on a while back, which is a mercy just now - they’d be wild.” She waved off Rey’s attempt at an apology. “Oh, honey, don’t worry about it. Damn, I wish Major Bailey would get back, I’m starving.” 

Rey shifted uncomfortably. “I should get going then.” 

Mellie’s brows went up, and she pointed a finger at Rey. “Oh no you don’t. You’re staying with me until we find Clyde.” 

Rey opened her mouth, astonished, but nothing came out. Mellie’s expression was adamant. “There’s two beds, and you as much as said you ain’t got nowhere to go. He’s gonna want to know you’re okay when he comes back to himself.” 

“I - but - “ Rey sputtered, but Mellie waved her off. 

“Listen. Rey.” Her voice was serious. “It’s pretty obvious you were lookin’ after Clyde as much as he was lookin’ after you. And you gave him some kind of focus.” 

Mellie swallowed. “Hell, it’s probably because of you we were able to find him at all, instead of him wandering around the country and maybe driving off the edge when he got to it. So shut up and let me return the favor.” 

“I could just give you my number,” Rey said weakly, but Mellie rolled her eyes. 

“Honey, one thing Clyde could tell you is that there’s no point in arguing with me, because you won’t win. Which bed do you want?” 

A few hours later Rey sat against the headboard of her chosen bed, arms wrapped around her knees, watching the afternoon sunlight peek in through the drawn curtains. Mellie was breathing softly in the other bed in exhausted sleep. 

Rey’s head ached with tiredness, but she wanted to straighten out her thoughts before she gave in to her own exhaustion. Bailey had returned with a couple of pizzas; Rey got the feeling he wanted to flirt with Mellie, but at least the man had the sense to know that it wasn’t a good time. But he’d had nothing new to report, and Mellie had once again sent him on his way, pleading jet lag. 

_I can’t figure these people out._

No one in Eunice was kind like this - at least, no one that Rey knew. Everyone was under Plutt’s thumb, struggling to get by; no one had time or resources to be _generous._ Not since Maz. 

She’d gotten used to it in West. Finding out that his sister was the same way - 

It almost made her angry. They might have grown up poor or comfortable, Rey didn’t know, but they had each other and their Jimmy, and they had enough to give some away, money or food or caring. Rey had _nothing_ \- no family, no money. No name or history. 

She didn’t want to be the object of anyone’s pity. West hadn’t pitied her - at least she didn’t think he had - and if Mellie did it was covered up by brisk practicality. Bailey, though, had treated her with faint condescension, and it had put her hackles up. 

She could leave. Rey knew that. Mellie was sound asleep; Rey could pick up her pack and walk out the door, and disappear into the city long before Mellie woke again. Satisfy her pride and survive on her own terms, and not build up a debt she doubted she could ever repay. 

_But then I’ll never know if West’s okay._

Finding out that his family was searching for him hadn’t made Rey worry any less. The shadowy image sketched out by Mellie’s words, the man West had been, was a stranger, but whether or not he regained his past Rey wanted him to be all right. Un-haunted. _Safe._

And what if they found him, and the only one he remembered was _her?_

Slowly Rey lay down, pulling the starched sheet up over her shoulders against the cool air, and closed her eyes. _I’ll stay until I know._

She dreamed of fixing cars, and slept peacefully. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me reiterate that I am completely ignorant of actual psychiatric science. This is fiction. 
> 
> Also, Clyde has a flashback to the IED explosion in this chapter. I don't describe anything graphically, but there is mention of injury and death.

Spending time with Mellie, Rey decided, was the oddest experience of her life, and that included traveling all night with a stranger in a vintage car. 

“I’m stayin’ put for the moment, until we get more news,” Mellie explained over the room-service breakfast she’d ordered for them. “Tom’s got people looking for Clyde in all directions, and Jimmy’s organized a watch at home in case he goes back, though of course it’d take him a few days now.” 

Rey nodded and snagged a grape from her dish of fruit salad. “Do you think he will?” 

Mellie pursed her lips. “No idea, really. But if his memory comes back enough for him to know where home _is,_ that boy had damn well better get in touch first thing.” 

Rey couldn’t keep back the snicker, and Mellie grinned at her, sudden and bright. 

They spent the day on the pool deck, lounging under one of the wide umbrellas and keeping a sharp eye on the parking lot. Mellie wore a bathing suit embellished with a U.S. flag and periodically slipped into the water for a languid set of laps; Rey, who had never owned a bathing suit in her life, stayed in the shade and played with Mellie’s laptop or read one of the thick stack of magazines Mellie had produced. It was a weird mix of boredom and relaxation; Rey was still unused to having nothing to do, and midafternoon she broke and had to go take a walk to shake out some of her twitchiness. 

There was no perfect solution, Rey knew. West could have come back the night before, while they were sleeping, and left again; he might do it that night, since the motel was hardly going to let one of them sit out front all night. But they had to wait, and it was at least something to do. 

It was frightening, Rey admitted to herself, how much she wanted to see that Pontiac appear in the motel driveway. _He’s not coming,_ she told herself. _He’s just getting further away and there’s no point in hoping_. 

Rey closed the magazine she’d been flipping through and rested her elbows on the shaded table. Mellie was stretched out on a lounger, eyes hidden behind sunglasses, but every time an engine growled past she would sit up a little. 

Rey contemplated the pool. She had no idea how to swim, but the shallow end had steps leading down, and there was no one in it at the moment. 

She bent and rolled up the legs of her worn jeans, then padded around to step carefully down onto the first stair. 

The water was a bright cool shock on her feet, bringing back old memories of playing with a hose when she was very small. Rey wrapped her hand around the stair railing and took the next step cautiously, the water rising to just below her knees. 

The pool still felt dangerous, all that water and most of it deeper than she was tall; but the way it eddied against her, wrapping her calves with a soft smooth pressure, was enticing. Rey edged around until she could sit on the edge, not caring that her jeans were getting wet, and dipped her fingers in the water too. The glitter and ripple hypnotized her gently, the endless play of light holding her gaze, until she was almost tempted to step deeper, to feel the water creep up to her waist despite her clothes. 

Then the uncomfortable heat of her nape broke into her consciousness, and Rey stood up with a sigh, retreating to the shade before she burned any further and feeling the slightly weird sensation of the dry air sucking the water from her skin. 

“You could just wear a shirt and shorts in,” Mellie said lazily from her sprawl, but Rey shook her head, reaching for a bottle of water. 

Mellie knew, or had guessed, enough about Rey’s life. She didn’t want to have to explain that she’d never been in a pool in her life that she could remember, that no one had been around to teach her to swim, that she’d never even had a tub to splash in. 

_I feel like a snail that can’t get back into its shell._ Rey twisted open the bottle and drank, sitting back in her chair; the situation with West had suspended her in a sort of limbo, and she just didn’t know how to feel about it. Relief, that she didn’t have to worry about food or a place to stay for at least a day or two longer? Guilt, at taking up someone’s resources without any prospect of repaying them? Frustration, at giving in to Mellie’s pressure to stay? 

_Worry_ seemed to be the only emotion that had no counter. Rey sighed, and spun the bottle cap on the table. 

_Where are you, West?_

* * *

He drove. 

Movement was all there was, wheels on pavement, the world sliding past outside the windows. He drove and kept driving, because if he stopped...if he stopped... 

He didn’t know how long he’d been driving, or where he was. He pissed when he had to, drank water when his throat hurt with dryness, slept when his vision swam, then got back into the car and fled onwards. He didn’t know where he’d come from, and he had no idea where he was going. He didn’t _care._

It was move or feel, and he couldn’t. Couldn’t dare to feel. 

Sunlight and darkness, rain and stars, it was all the same. Tires hissed on wet pavement and hummed on dry. The engine ticked down when he had to stop, and the sound of his breath was too loud in his ears. Somewhere, in the back of his head, someone was screaming. 

He went on, and on, and on. 

The sudden _bang_ and wobble jolted him, and instinct took over, steering the car onto the narrow shoulder of a winding road. He set the brake - the grade was steep - and got out to see what the problem was. 

The left rear tire was flat. Very flat. 

He stared at it for a long moment, then moved stiffly to open the trunk. There was his duffle, and a pack of tools wrapped in plastic so old it was cracking; but there was no spare. 

He staggered back, knees weak, and the world seemed to spin around him. _Go!_ his mind shrieked. _**Go!**_

He took a few shuffling steps, but his feet would never be fast enough to outrun the screaming. He could hear it getting closer. 

The road was a thin ribbon of asphalt winding up a steep and rocky slope; pines crowded any space level enough to support them. The sky was a beautiful blue beyond the dark branches, and the air was crisp and clean; but he could barely see it. There was no one to help him, and no place to go, and no _way_ to go. 

The high sound that whined in his ears was coming from his own throat. The shoulder of the road was gritty under his knees and then his butt; his prosthesis bruised his temple when he clapped his hands to his head. 

The screaming got louder and louder. _You,_ it said, an endless repetition. _You. It’s your fault. Your fault your fault **your fault** -_

He had to look. Had to turn to see what he’d been running from. 

_“Haven’t heard you talk about the Curse for a while.”_

The Curse was broken. 

The world was gone. There was only his guilt. 

He’d been raised on tales of the Logan Curse, they all had. Everyone knew about it, how every time something good happened to a Logan, something bad happened to take it away. Generations, it had gone on, down to their own - striking Jimmy just when he was on the edge of great things, lashing out to maim _him_ when he was finally on his way home. 

It was the way of things. Fate traded bad things for good, and all Logans could do was endure. 

Until it _broke_. 

He didn’t know when he’d figured it out; maybe his subconscious knew before he did, and that was why the alcohol, so he wouldn’t _notice._

The Curse had killed his buddies when it had taken his hand with the roadside mine. He was responsible for their deaths. But it was the Curse; he would suffer under it for the rest of his life, just like his family. Cause and punishment in one neat package. 

But if the Curse was broken, then he wasn’t being punished any more. And his buddies’ deaths were on _him._

_I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry -_

He could see them, familiar faces under their helmets, Frank and Azzi, Jamil and Annie and Vern, lit with the joy of finally getting out and going home to their families. They’d been _singing,_ all of them, even him, one of the Army songs you never sang around kids, and then heat and light and incredible noise had wiped it all out. 

Writhing on the ground, points of agony everywhere and a mangled scarlet horror where his hand should be; screaming turning to choked gurgles and dropping to silence; Azzi’s arm lying in the road, but the rest of Azzi missing. 

Dead. Because of him. 

_I’m sorry._

They came to him, then, a circle around where he huddled on the ground. They said nothing, but he could feel their gazes on him; not accusation but grief. They were dead while he lived; they had every right to mourn. 

Annie shook her head, but he couldn’t hear the words she mouthed. Jamil leaned forward to clasp his shoulder, but there was no sensation of touch. 

Vern rolled his eyes, and wrote on the asphalt with his forefinger. _stop it you asshole_

_youve been punished enough_

They vanished like popped bubbles, leaving him alone. 

The ground leaned up to meet him, and his head went silent at last. 

* * *

Clyde didn’t pass out, exactly. On some level he was aware of time passing, of the shadows deepening beneath the trees and the air growing cooler. He even heard a car pass by, headed downhill; it didn’t slow. But his mind was as scattered as leaves on the wind, and he couldn’t seem to pull it together long enough to have a coherent thought. Memories bubbled up in a disconnected flood - the bar, prison, high school, Iraq; his father’s voice, the crash of a plate glass window; the smell of coal dust, the scratch of a fresh new uniform. 

It was that last, oddly enough, that gave him the key he needed. Clyde concentrated on that memory in particular, the way the Velcro that held his insignia in place would loosen at the edges over time, until he had to find a needle and thread to fasten it back down again, swearing the whole time at thick fabric and uncooperative fingers. 

It wasn’t until nearly twilight that he found the strength to roll over. The asphalt was solid under his shoulders, almost as if the world itself was offering a supporting push. 

_You have to get up._

It wasn’t quite true; Clyde supposed he could lie there until thirst or cold or a passing bear took him out, though it was more likely that the Highway Patrol would find him first. But as empty as he was inside, he didn’t particularly want to end his days flat on his back on a mountain road either. 

Standing up was an ordeal. Clyde didn’t know how long he’d been driving, but every muscle was protesting and his stomach was trying to chew through his backbone. He braced himself on the car as he caught his balance, and his gaze snagged on the crumpled cloth lying on the back seat. A shirt, balled up for a pillow. 

“Ah, _fuck_.” Clyde slammed his palm against the car’s roof as the last few weeks flooded back. _Rey._

He’d just _bolted_ , and left her behind. _It’s not like you could have helped it,_ his mind pointed out; he still had no idea who had spoken to him, but he remembered the words that had set him off. And he’d run like a damn rabbit. 

It didn’t matter that Rey was tough and smart; you didn’t leave people who needed help. His parents had taught him better than that. Clyde didn’t know if he cared about moving for himself, but for Rey he would go back. _Gotta make sure she’s okay -_

Except - 

_Where the hell am I?_

He doubted he’d gone in a straight line. Without knowing his location, he couldn’t even tell whether to go uphill or down. 

_And by now Mellie and Jimmy have probably noticed I’m gone._ Another surge of guilt hit Clyde; he hadn’t left so much as a note when he’d taken off. They had their differences, he and his siblings, but they would be worried. 

_There’s not a damn thing I can do about it_. The thought was bitter. He had no cell phone; unlike his brother, he did use one, but he’d left it behind on his kitchen counter in West Virginia. The only thing he _could_ do was raise the hood of the car in the universal signal of _won’t go_ , and hope that the next vehicle to pass would slow down enough for him to get their attention. 

Assuming they would stop at all for an unwashed six-footer with red eyes and a missing hand, who no doubt looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. 

In the meantime, if he wanted to be functional when he was found, Clyde had to at least try to take care of himself. 

There was a bottle of water wedged into the space in front of the gearshift, and a litter of wrappers in the passenger seat of his car. He wrinkled his nose - when did he get so damn _sloppy_ \- but among the trash he found half a bag of peanut M&Ms and one unopened pack of buffalo jerky. 

He eyed the latter with some surprise - _Must be a **long** way from home - _but it tasted good enough and he wasn’t inclined to be picky. Clyde guzzled the water and chewed the jerky tiredly, leaning against the driver’s side door as he felt around inside. 

The panic was gone like it had never been. The guilt was still there, never mind what the hallucinations had tried to tell him, but it wasn’t the crushing burden that it had been. _Might be because I’m just too tired to care._

Rey was foremost in his mind now. It had been two days, he thought, maybe more, since he’d peeled out of the motel lot and left her. It was probably going to take at least the same amount of time to get back to her, assuming he got picked up soon. 

_She might not even still be there._ She’d wanted to leave the city; she could have picked up a ride with someone else, or even bought a bus ticket if she’d found what he’d left for her. Clyde frowned, stomach knotting. _If she’s gone..._

 _If she’s gone, I’ll never be able to find her._

The rumble of an engine caught his attention, and he straightened to look around. A white SUV was coming around the downhill curve, slowing; as he watched, a black-haired woman in a tan uniform leaned out of the window. “Hey, need some help?” 

Relief flooded him like morphine. “Yes ma’am, I could sure use some.” 

The ranger parked her vehicle behind his and climbed out; she was almost as tall as he was, with brown skin and a frame that looked like a strong wind would blow her away. “We got a report of an abandoned car up here, but I guess the driver didn’t see you,” she said cheerfully, gaze snagging on Clyde’s prosthesis and then mercifully flicking past it. “Been here long?” 

He shook his head. “I’m Susan Todd,” she added absently, bending for a closer look at his flat tire. “No spare?” 

“No ma’am. My bad.” He hadn’t driven in so long after losing his license that he’d purely forgot to replace the damn thing. “No phone neither.” 

“Well, you can get a tow up here tomorrow. Meantime I can take you back to the ranger station, get you sorted out.” Her glance was sympathetic; if she thought him an idiot for venturing into the mountains without either of those essentials, it didn’t show on her face. “Want to grab your stuff?” 

Within minutes he’d locked his car and climbed into hers, and they were headed back down the road into the blue twilight. Clyde hated to leave the Pontiac, but it wasn’t like there was much choice. 

“Can I use a phone at the station?” he asked, and Susan nodded, flicking on the headlights. 

“Sure thing. I’d offer you mine but there’s not much signal out this way.” 

That made him feel just slightly better; even if he’d had a phone it probably wouldn’t have worked. 

“If you don’t mind me askin’...where am I?” Clyde figured he sounded like a fool, but then he _was_ one for getting himself in this situation, so he might as well own up to it. 

“You really are lost, aren’t you? Glacier National Park,” Susan said, sounding amused. 

Clyde wasn’t sure where that was, but his pride wouldn’t bend _that_ far. Maybe there’d be a map at the ranger station. 

“Not far from Logan Pass,” Susan added. 

Clyde choked. 

The ranger station was busier than Clyde expected, with people going in and out even as it was getting dark. Susan escorted him inside and into a small lounge area that was clearly for the staff. “You all right?” she asked kindly. “You’re looking a little peaky, if you don’t mind me saying so.” 

“‘M okay,” Clyde mumbled automatically. “Just tired.” 

“Hm. Getting stuck in the wilderness can throw you for a loop even if nothing bad happens.” She patted his shoulder. “Have a seat and relax for a bit, and I’ll see about lining you up some transportation to Columbia Falls. You can get a motel room there and deal with your car tomorrow.” 

“Thanks.” Clyde cleared his throat. “Could I borrow that phone?” 

“Oh, sure.” She unhooked a smartphone from her belt and unlocked it for him. “It’s an official government phone, so no shenanigans, hear?” 

“No ma’am.” He took it, and she gave him a grin. 

“Help yourself to coffee, and there’s cookies in the cupboard. You look like your blood sugar could use a boost.” 

She closed the door on her way out, and Clyde lowered himself into one of the worn chairs set around a small table. The coffee warming on the counter nearby smelled like it had been sitting too long, but he didn’t want it anyway. 

He gripped the phone carefully with his prosthesis, grateful that he’d memorized his two most important numbers rather than trusting to his phone’s address book; took a deep breath; and dialed. 

* * *

The second day went much like the first. Rey volunteered to go get lunch, and whatever Mellie saw in Rey’s face kept her from giving Rey money to pay for it. _I can do this at least,_ Rey thought grimly, coming back with two bags full of food. _Pull my weight a little -_

Mellie seemed to take the day as calmly as she had the previous one, but Rey saw how she kept twisting strands of her hair around her fingers, a nervous tic that betrayed her worry. She kept her own mouth shut - _there’s nothing I can say to make it better -_ and busied herself looking for job openings online. It was disheartening; nearly everything seemed to require qualifications she didn’t have. 

_But if I don’t look, I won’t find._

“I’m gonna take a shower, and then let’s get something fancy for dinner,” Mellie said when the sun disappeared behind the skyline and they retreated to their room. She looked ruffled and annoyed. “There’s gotta be someplace nice that’ll deliver.” 

“I can look online,” Rey offered, though she wasn’t entirely sure what Mellie would consider _fancy_. 

“That’d be good.” Mellie shot her a grateful look. “I am just not in the mood for pizza and burgers, you know?” 

She disappeared into the bathroom, and Rey opened the laptop and started a search, more comfortable still with a full-sized keyboard than her new phone. She was absorbed in menus when an unfamiliar ringtone made her look up. 

Mellie’s phone was vibrating on the nightstand where she’d left it. Rey glanced towards the bathroom, but she could hear the shower running. 

“Can you grab that?” Mellie shouted. “It’s probably Tom.” 

Rey shrugged and obeyed, tapping the screen to reply and lifting it to her ear. “Hallo?” 

“Mel?” said a familiar voice, and Rey squeaked. 

_“West?”_

* * *

Clyde almost dropped the phone. 

For an instant he was convinced he’d dialed the wrong number somehow, and then relief crested, sweet and dizzying. “Rey.” He blew out a long breath, and then they spoke simultaneously. _“Are you okay?”_

Rey let out a yelp of laughter, and Clyde couldn’t help smiling at the sound. “Yes, fine! I’m with your sister, she’s - hold on - “ Her voice went further away. “ _Mellie! It’s him!”_

Then she was back, tone dropping to serious. “ _Are_ you okay?” 

He started to give her the automatic reply, then stopped. “I’ll do,” he said at last. “Safe at least.” 

“That - that’s good.” The words were thick, and a pang shot through him. “I - we were worried.” 

“I’m sorry.” He was sorry for a lot of things, it seemed, but it was right to apologize. “For runnin’ off like that.” 

“It’s okay, I figured you couldn’t help it.” A door opened in the background. “Oh, here’s your sister - “ 

A fumbling noise, and then - _“Clyde,_ is that you?” 

“Hi Mel,” he said, rubbing at one stinging eye. “Sorry for worryin’ you.” 

“ _Dammit,_ Clyde! You think I care about that so long as you’re safe?” A sniffle. “Where the hell _are_ you?” 

He cleared his throat. “Glacier National Park?” 

“Glacier National _Park?_ Where the hell’s that?” Mellie sounded baffled as well as excited. 

“Damned if I know.” He heard Rey say something that he couldn’t quite make out. “You’re - where are _you?_ ” 

“San Jose. I came out as soon as they spotted you, ran into Rey. Are you really all right, Clyde?” 

“More or less.” He cleared his throat. “Car’s got a flat tire, but the ranger said she’d get me to a city and I can get it fixed.” 

“That - that sounds good. What?” Another murmur. “Rey says you’re in Montana.” 

“Well, fuck.” How the hell did he get so far? “Is - is Rey okay?” 

“Yep.” The firmness of her reply was soothing. “We just settled in to wait, see if you came back.” 

Clyde squeezed his eyes shut. “I - I couldn’t _remember,_ Mel. Not who I was or nothin’.” 

“That’s what Rey said.” Her voice was soft. “Do you know _why?_ ” 

“I do now.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not going to explain over the phone, though.” 

“No. Look, are you gonna come back?” 

Back to home, to _family_ , she meant. Clyde could hear the thread of uncertainty in her voice, and it made him ache. “‘Course I am.” 

“All right then.” Mellie sniffled again. 

“Look, I - I gotta go, the ranger’ll need her phone back and I still need to call Jimmy. I’ll call again tomorrow, okay?” He realized he didn’t want to hang up, but - 

“You better. Or we’ll come and find you and you won’t like it.” She was holding back tears, he could tell. 

“I promise, Mel.” Clyde swallowed. “Look after Rey, will you?” 

“Of course I will. Now go on, I gotta finish my shower.” 

“‘Bye Mel.” He watched the call disconnect and then propped his elbows on the table, trying to steady his breathing. _Rey’s okay._

More than, if Mellie had hold of her, but the important thing was that she was _safe_ , not gone off with a stranger or lost somewhere in San Jose. On some level Clyde knew that his concern was way out of proportion, but he was too tired to worry about it. 

_It’s just like Mellie to go all that way. Clear across the country._ He was going to get an earful when he finally saw his sister, but Clyde knew he deserved it for worrying her and Jimmy. He didn’t think he’d mind too much. 

_Got one more person you gotta let yell at you._

He dialed the other number. 

* * *

“Oh, thank the Lord, he’s _okay._ ” Mellie dropped the phone on the bed and started to sob, burying her face in her hands. 

Startled, Rey put a tentative arm around her shoulders, helping her to sit on the mattress. Mellie leaned into her without hesitation, and Rey tightened her hold as Mellie cried, feeling awkward and clumsy and lost. 

The last time she’d tried to comfort someone had been elementary school, when Jenny Spires had tripped on the playground and scraped her knees and palms on the gravel. No one in her life since had required comfort of her, or would have accepted it if she’d offered it. 

Mellie didn’t seem to care, though. And it was just relief, anyway, which was easier; after a minute or so she hiccuped to a stop and wiped her face with the edge of the towel wrapped around her. “Sorry ‘bout that. I just - “ 

She waved one hand, and Rey let her go. “Yeah, me too, kind of.” 

It was true; she was a jumbled mess of shock, relief, and an unfamiliar joy. _He’s all right. He’s got his memory back, and he’s **okay**._ Though how he’d ended up in _Montana_ \- she’d had to look up the park name online. _He probably wasn’t paying attention to where he was going._

“Well.” Mellie sniffed, and sprang up. “I’m gonna finish my shower, and then we are going to _celebrate._ We have to be able to get a decent steak _somewhere_ in this town.” 

She scooped up her phone and shot off a quick text. “There, now Tom knows and everyone can stand down. Give me five minutes.” 

It was a little more than that, but Rey spent the time on a map site, working out how West - _Clyde,_ she reminded herself - might have gotten as far as Glacier National Park. _It’s a big area. I wonder where he is._ Pictures of the park just made her shake her head; it was more trees than she’d ever seen in her life. 

Mellie’s phone rang again before the water shut off, and Rey glanced at the display, which read _Jimmy_ ; but Mellie didn’t call out, so Rey didn’t touch it. 

When Mellie appeared she was wearing an embroidered blouse and a skirt that showed off her tanned legs, and more makeup than Rey had seen on her previously. “I think your brother called. The other one,” Rey told her, still absorbed in pictures of mountains. 

“Jimmy? Not surprised.” Mellie cocked her head and looked Rey up and down. “Honey, don’t take this the wrong way, but can I dress you up a little? We’re just about the same height.” 

Rey blinked at her. “What?” 

Mellie was already rummaging in the closet where she’d hung up the contents of her suitcase. “Here, this should fit you,” she said, holding up a sundress. “Sleeveless, but you can do without a bra, lucky duck. And I can do up your hair in a snap. Hop in the shower and I’ll fix you up after.” 

Half-baffled, half-amused, Rey obeyed, taking the dress and rummaging in her pack for some clean underwear. Stepping into the shower, she wondered if she should feel insulted, but it felt more like indulging Mellie in some game of pretend. 

The dress was a little loose in the bust, but it fit well enough from what she could see in the steamed-over bathroom mirror. Mellie whisked her into a chair as soon as Rey emerged and began wielding a hair dryer and a brush with easy expertise, chattering all the while. “I swear Jimmy was crying too when I called him back, he’s been just as worried but his ex is out of town with her husband and he has his daughter this week - “ 

Rey held still and listened, curious about the family that had produced the taciturn wanderer who’d rescued her. West Virginia was just a name to Rey, with hardly more associations than Montana, except that Clyde had come from there; now she heard about small towns, cosmetology careers, the difficulties of commuting between states, and how nice the lower humidity of California felt but how it was murder on the skin. 

“You’ve got skin like satin,” Mellie added, coming around to peer at Rey’s face up close. “But you need to use more sunscreen or you’ll get lines too early. I ain’t got any unopened stuff but I have some tinted salve I only use an applicator with, so let me get that.” 

“Okay?” Rey said uncertainly. She’d seen women using makeup in Eunice, to be sure - even some of her peers before Plutt yanked her out of high school - but she’d never had any of her own, and Maz had died before Rey had seriously thought about wearing it. And after that, she never had the money for it. 

Mellie fetched a little container and dabbed gently at Rey’s face and eyelids with a soft stick, murmuring instructions, then urged her up. “Okay, come take a look.” 

She guided Rey back to the bathroom, where the steam had cleared, and Rey’s eyes flew wide at the sight of them standing side by side. 

She hadn’t compared herself to other women in years - she hadn’t had time or energy, or even opportunity. The occasional wistful wish to have something nice to wear, to look _pretty_ \- Rey had tucked that away for _later, when I’m free_. 

Now she saw someone she barely recognized, whose hair was loose and wavy instead of pulled back out of the way, dressed for enjoyment in the warm air instead of for wrestling with greasy metal and plastic. Even her face was different, open and expectant instead of wary and tired, lips rosy instead of bitten and her cheeks flushed with surprise. 

Mellie grinned, slinging an arm around Rey’s waist. “Ready to take on the town?” 

Rey grinned back. “Absolutely.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, I _swear_ that Logan Pass is a complete coincidence. *grin* I picked Montana as a good place for Clyde to end up, and I was just wandering around a map looking at places near the park when I spotted it. How could I resist?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does it still count as Monday if I haven't gone to bed yet? :/ 
> 
> Again, I am fudging drive times. There's always traffic somewhere.

The drive down to Columbia Falls took almost two hours, in the dark; fortunately the ranger at the wheel preferred listening to the radio over conversation, and Clyde could sit mute, clutching the sticky note that gave directions on how to get back to his car. 

He was very grateful to Ranger Todd for picking him up and looking after him so kindly, never mind that it was part of her job, but the darkness and music-laced silence was soothing. He still felt as if his soul had been run over with a harrow and his body dragged behind, and Clyde knew if he were home he would have wanted to open a bottle of something just to ease the aches. 

_Probably just as well I can’t._

He’d reached Jimmy on the first try - well, no doubt his brother had been waiting by the phone. 

_“H’lo?”_

_“Jimmy.”_

_A long pause, a choked sound. **“Clyde.”** _

_“‘M okay. Uh - got lost for a while, but I’m okay.”_

_He heard a thud through the line, as if Jimmy’s butt was landing on a chair. “Clyde, you son of a **bitch** \- “_

_“Hey now, don’t you talk about Momma that way - “_

_“ - where the hell have you been, an’ why didn’t you **call**?” _

_Clyde swallowed. “I - lost my memory for a bit.”_

_“You what? Well, hell.” Jimmy sounded baffled._

_“Got it back now. Obviously.”_

_“Didja hit your head or something?” A door banged in the background, and Jimmy’s voice went fainter. “Hey, honey, your Uncle Clyde’s been found, he’s okay.”_

_A shrill cheer, a jumble of sound, and then Sadie’s voice in his ear. “Uncle Clyde!”_

_“Hi, little girl.” She always made him smile, Sadie did; she was so confident in what she wanted, so fearless in meeting life._

_“Not little,” she shot back, what she always said. “When are you coming home?”_

_He had to swallow again. “I don’t know. But I will.”_

_“You better, Daddy misses you.”_

_“And I miss all y’all.” So bad it hurt._

_She must have handed the phone back to Jimmy, because it was his voice again. “Clyde, you really all right?”_

_“Kind of.” Once again, he didn’t want to try to explain over the phone. “I’ll tell you about it later, okay?”_

_“You better.” Jimmy’s voice cracked, and Clyde squeezed his eyes shut. “Get your ass home as soon as you can - “_

“There’s two places to choose from down here.” The ranger’s words brought Clyde back to the present. “You have any preference?” 

Clyde shook his head, then cleared his throat and spoke. “Nope.” 

“Travel Inn, then.” The ranger signaled for a turn. “They all cost about the same.” 

Money wasn’t an issue, so Clyde had nothing to say to that. 

The motel was pretty nice, but he was too tired to pay much attention. Clyde dropped into bed like a felled tree, expecting to be plagued by insomnia and nightmares; but sleep swarmed over him before he could even begin to sort out the last few days in his mind. 

* * *

A cell phone and a tow truck were the most important things the next morning; Clyde barely remembered to eat breakfast, or to text his new number to Mellie and Jimmy. Paying for the truck, and a new tire, was more expensive than the motel, but it didn’t matter. The cheerful person driving the truck, whose gender Clyde couldn’t determine, chattered at him all the way back to his car, replaced the tire with stunning swiftness, waited to make sure the Pontiac would start, and then departed with a wave, leaving Clyde listening to the thrum of the motor in the rustling quiet of a wilderness morning. 

He twisted the key, and silence fell. 

_What do I do now?_

He’d regained his memory, and with it, a bleak insight about the state of his own mind and emotions. Clyde veered away from probing into that; whatever balance he’d achieved was fragile, and he still felt exhausted, almost burnt out. 

But he had to make a choice. 

_You can keep going,_ he reminded himself. _Just keep driving. Jimmy and Mellie’ll be mad, but as long as you keep in touch they won’t make too much of a fuss._

_Or you can go home._

_Home_ was where all this had started, where his demons had begun nipping at his heels. It didn’t quite feel like panic when he thought about it, but it was definitely uncomfortable. 

But picking up where he’d left off and wandering again seemed - hollow. Pointless. _If there’s nothing chasing me, what’s the point of running?_

There was a third option, though. 

He was still a lot further west than east. Driving back to San Jose would take much less time than going home. Mellie would wait for him there, if he asked her to. 

_And I could see Rey. Make sure she’s all right._ Not that he had any reason to doubt Mellie, but - he’d offered Rey a choice of cities, and she hadn’t liked San Jose. He should at least go back and see if she wanted to try another. 

And if it let him put off his introspection a little longer - well, that could be an advantage. 

Clyde blew out a breath, and unlocked his new phone. It had three numbers - Jimmy’s regular phone, Mellie’s cell, and the new one that Mellie had texted him that morning, labeled _Rey._ _Just in case,_ she’d said. 

He ran his thumb over that one, but in the end it was the second one he pressed, lifting the phone to his mouth and feeling grateful for the voice-to-text function. “Hey Mel, I got a proposition for you - “ 

* * *

_I need to go_. 

Rey rolled her clothes up tightly, loading them into her pack with an eye to the best distribution of weight. Her pipe sat next to it, ready to slide in on the side where she could get to it in a hurry. 

Behind Rey, Mellie was talking on her phone to someone back in West Virginia - Rey was trying not to eavesdrop, but Mellie wasn’t trying to be quiet. 

Rey knew she should have left that morning. _Hell, I should have gone last night, once we found out West was safe._ The name she’d given him persisted despite all her efforts to think of him as _Clyde_. 

But Mellie had swept her into - into _fun_ , which had been scarce in Rey’s life for years. They’d taken a taxi to a downtown steakhouse, and Mellie had insisted on splurging on appetizers _and_ dessert to go with their meals, ordering a cocktail and insisting to Rey in a whisper that her brother could make a better one. They’d gone giggly over the food, and Mellie had told her stories about her sometimes-boyfriend, her niece, Clyde as a child; Rey had countered with a couple of tales of the odder customers who passed through Eunice, and how she’d been the fourth-grade recess champion at hunting whiptails. 

It had let her be ordinary, for a little while. A woman who had time to dress up and go out, who hadn’t grown up a quasi-slave and wasn’t still looking over her shoulder for pursuit. 

She’d even, guiltily, let Mellie take her out for brunch when they’d woken. One last meal before she had to tighten her belt again, one last hour with someone she could pretend was a friend. 

Mellie’s conversation halted as Rey closed her pack. “Look, I gotta go, I’ll text you later,” Mellie said, and then, “Rey, you had better not be doing what I think you’re doing.” 

Rey climbed to her feet and slung her pack over her shoulder. “I appreciate what you’ve done for me the last couple of days,” she said firmly. “But Clyde’s been found. I only - you don’t need me any more.” 

“The hell we _don’t_.” Mellie fixed her with a glare. “You’re just going to go off and _leave_ him?” 

Rey squinted at her. “Leave him? He’s in _Montana._ ” 

“Well, he’s not gonna _stay_ there.” 

_I hope not._ Rey kept her voice steady. “Mellie, I can’t tell you how glad I am that Clyde’s...come back to himself. He should go home and, I don’t know, get therapy. Spend time with you.” _Because I get the feeling he’s incredibly lonely as well as messed up._ “But my part in...in this, it’s done. You don’t need me any more.” 

Why was her throat so tight? She’d known the man for all of three days. She hadn’t even known his _name_. 

Mellie folded her arms. “He’s gonna want to see you, you know.” 

Caught up in the intensity of the past few days, Rey might have believed it, but now cold logic took hold. _No, he’s not. He’s got everything back now, he doesn’t need a nameless runaway hanging around._

She didn’t say it. She just raised her chin. “Thank you for - everything, Mellie.” 

Rey half-expected Mellie to try to stop her as she opened the door, but aside from an angry growl there was nothing. Rey blinked rapidly and headed down the hallway, hoping to at least get outside before her face crumpled. 

She was halfway across the parking lot when the sudden beeping from her pocket made her jump. She fished the phone out gingerly, but the number calling wasn’t the one she’d programmed in at Mellie’s insistence, so it couldn’t be Mellie trying to argue. 

_Am I getting spam calls already?_ Baffled and distracted, Rey answered it warily. “Yeah?” 

“Don’t go.” 

Rey halted, astonished all over again. “W- Clyde?” 

“Don’t go,” he said again, voice rough. “I’m comin’ back, will you - will you just wait until I get there?” 

“How did you - “ The answer was obvious, and Rey dropped the question. “Clyde, you should go home.” 

“Not without - “ He stopped, then started again. “I promised you I’d take you to a city you liked. Gonna keep that promise.” 

She shook her head in confusion. “You - no, you said it was for _you_. To give you a purpose.” 

“So what?” That made her blink again. “You still need somethin’ better.” 

Rey rubbed her temple, trying to think clearly. “You’ve already done so much. You and your sister, I can’t possibly pay you back.” 

He made a frustrated noise. “It’s not about that, and anyway I owe you more.” A sigh hissed through the speaker. “Just wait, I’m comin’ as fast as I can. We can talk then.”

“Clyde - “

“ _Please._ ” 

It should have been easy to say _no_ , to shut off the call and keep walking, but though she opened her mouth Rey couldn’t force the word out. Brutality hadn’t broken her, but the pleading hiding in that one word slid past all her resistance like water through sand. “I...I...okay.” 

_“Good.”_ His voice was low, but she could all but feel the intensity. “I need a day, maybe two, but I’ll be there.” 

“You shouldn’t...” She didn’t even know what she was protesting. Shouldn’t drive so far, so fast? Shouldn’t wait to get help? 

“I’m comin’,” he repeated firmly. “You sit tight.” 

And with that he was gone, leaving her to stare at the little device in bewilderment. 

A hand touched her elbow, and Rey turned to see Mellie, face grave and gentle. “Are you staying?” she asked, and when Rey nodded helplessly she smiled. “Then come back inside.” 

It made no sense, Rey thought as Mellie made coffee and pressed a cup into Rey’s hands. She had a phone, now, and no easy way to leave San Jose even if she had somewhere to go; she could just go find a place to stay and Clyde could call when he arrived. She didn’t have to stay with Mellie, sharing a room whose cost she couldn’t justify even if Mellie had let her pay for it. 

But the siblings between them seemed determined to keep her close by. And Rey, who had mustered enough will to defy a life pinched with want and drudgery and cruelty, found herself giving way to kindness. 

_They want me here. Why do they want me here?_

“Are you all right?” Mellie said softly, and Rey looked up from her blind contemplation of her coffee. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted. “You’re - this wasn’t part of my plan.” 

Mellie’s smile was sympathetic. “Just like a man, upsettin’ everything,” she said, and made Rey laugh despite herself. “Honey, you’re _tired_. Why don’t you just take a break? Nothing’s happening that can’t wait a few hours.” 

Almost before she knew it, Rey found herself tucked into bed, in the middle of the afternoon, and ordered to nap. She blinked at the nightstand, still bewildered. _How can I be tired? All I’ve done for the last week is sit around._

It was the last thought she had until she opened her eyes to evening. 

* * *

The road unfolded in front of Clyde, always endless, but this time he knew where he was going. 

He couldn’t remember the time between San Jose and the park with any real clarity, but he was pretty sure the path he’d taken to get there wasn’t straightforward; still, even the fastest route back was almost a day’s worth of time all at once. 

_Don’t push it. You’re still worn out._ Much as he wanted to get back to Rey and Mellie, he had no desire to end up in a ditch from falling asleep at the wheel. _It’s a miracle you didn’t already._

Apart from Mellie’s one frantic call - “ _She’s **leaving** , Clyde, **do something** _\- “ they’d kept to texting, Mellie’s carefully worded cautions to take his time, Clyde’s terse replies so she’d know he was safe. And one or two snippets of information: _she’s spent the whole damn day on my laptop looking for work,_ and _I hope you know more about her life than she’ll tell me because it must have been pretty awful._

That last, he definitely agreed with. 

There’d also been one email from Mellie, laying out the efforts she and Jimmy had taken to find him, and what had happened when he’d been found. Clyde skimmed it quickly, then closed it. He wasn’t ready to think about that either. 

_You’re gonna have to, sooner or later._

But if keeping a lid on things kept his head clear, Clyde was willing to put it off. For a while at least. 

It took him two days, in the end, from pine-laden mountains down to the fertile seacoast, and while most of it was highways, Clyde tried his best to appreciate the scenery he passed. He’d seen a lot overseas, more than most everyone he knew; but he’d come home from war and just _stayed_ , scarcely ever going more than twenty miles from home. 

Maybe their little town was as much a dead-end as it had been when he’d left, but it was a comfortable one. Clyde figured he’d stayed put as much to avoid waking his demons as because it was the easiest thing; and, after all, it had _worked_. 

Until Jimmy got his cauliflower notion, anyway. 

Clyde sighed, and tapped the steering wheel with his prosthesis, listening to the click. He _hated_ the idea of going in for therapy, he’d never been a talker to begin with and trying to chat with a stranger about his _feelings_ just made him want to cringe, but - 

_Seems like you ought to._

He didn’t have to decide right that minute, Clyde knew. He was a good three thousand miles away from home, give or take a few hundred, and it was going to take a while to close that gap. He had a promise to fulfill first. 

San Jose was a glittering sea of lights when he crossed the city limits. It was late, coming up on midnight, and Clyde hesitated before texting Mellie from the motel lot. _She’ll string you up if she finds out you got here and waited ’til morning,_ he reminded himself. 

She replied within a minute with a room number, and Clyde shut off the engine and headed inside. He half-expected the desk clerk to stop him, but the man just gave him a sharp look and then nodded, and Clyde figured Mellie had called down to let the clerk know he’d be coming through. It was like her to do it. 

He didn’t even get a chance to knock on the door; it opened as soon as he stopped in front of it, and Mellie stepped back to let him in. The room was dark aside from the light above the door, and she was wearing a sleep shirt, looking up at him with wet eyes before pulling him into a fierce hug. 

Clyde wrapped himself around his little sister and let out a shuddering breath, some tight part of his soul loosening. They might annoy the hell out of each other sometimes, but they were _family_ and they were there for each other. 

In that moment, he missed Jimmy so much he ached, but it didn’t matter. He’d see his brother again, and for now it was the two of them. It was enough. 

Finally Mellie let him, go, sliding one hand up the back of his neck to tug at his hair. “We’re gonna have a _talk_ ,” she said in a low voice. “But Rey’s asleep, so - “ 

“I’m awake,” Rey said in a blurry voice, and Clyde looked up to see a shadowed shape sit up on the near bed. 

He had to clear his throat to speak. “Rey.” 

She slid off the mattress and came into the light, blinking drowsily with her hair all down around her shoulders, wearing a tank top over a pair of incredibly ancient sweatpants. She still looked mostly asleep, and the seconds stretched like honey, thick and silent; and then she held out her hand with the same smile she’d given the flowers by the highway. “You made it.” 

Clyde took her hand gently, just to hold it, warm skin against his and another tightness eased. “I did.” 

Hearing her voice on the phone had been a relief; this was something deeper than that, though Clyde couldn’t put a name to it. She was _there_ , she was safe, she was smiling; it made his demons shrink a little, as if that knowledge was a light they couldn’t abide. 

Mellie made a humming sound. “It’s late,” she said easily. “Clyde, we need to get you a room, we can all talk in the morning.” 

“Okay.” Rey’s hand still lay in his, fingers curled gently around the edge of his palm, and Clyde let it go reluctantly, shooting a sly glance at Mellie. “You’ll do most of the talking anyway.” 

Rey chortled, and Mellie punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Somebody has to make up for you never saying nothin’ at all.” 

He smirked at her, then touched his temple in salute. “Ladies.” 

“See you in the morning,” Rey said quietly. Mellie gave him one more quick hug, then pushed him gently out. 

Fifteen minutes later he was drawing up the sheets on a bed of his own. The subtle easing lingered, and Clyde lay back, rubbing absently at the stump of his arm; it always ached when he drove too long. Fragmented thoughts about sacrifice and curses ran through his head, but it was Rey and Mellie who appeared in his mind’s eye; and before long he was asleep. 

* * *

For all his weariness, Clyde woke early. Only the faintest hint of light was edging around the curtains when he opened his eyes, and for a while he just lay still, savoring the feeling of _not moving_. 

It was the first time he had come to a true stop since - since setting off on this fool run, at least. Even when he’d come back to himself there was still the urgency to get back to San Jose, to Rey; now an odd lightness stole over him, the sensation of the absence of pressure. 

_Rey._ She was safe from harm with Mellie, that he could be sure of. The fact that his sister seemed to have practically adopted Rey was not entirely surprising; Mellie did have a thing for looking after people, which Clyde was pretty sure was the reason why he and Jimmy had both survived the loss of their momma. He also suspected it was part of her fascination with Joe Bang, which had been less palatable, but at least that was over and done with. 

Now all he had to do was convince Rey to let him carry out his promise. _That’s the trick, ain’t it._

Because he understood. She had her pride, and a sense of fairness, though how she’d managed to hang onto either was beyond him. Gratitude could be an ugly weight if it was too one-sided. 

But it wasn’t just his promise that spurred him. Rey was a survivor; she could handle San Jose if she had to, could find or make a place for herself and settle in. 

Clyde just...didn’t want her to. _She shouldn’t **have** to._

Besides, _he_ owed _her,_ though it didn’t seem a burden to him. 

Eventually his bladder forced him out of bed, and he scrubbed up in the shower afterwards. Clyde pulled open the curtains when he came out of the bathroom; early light gilded everything it touched, brightening even the parking lot and sparkling on the swimming pool below. The pool which had a familiar shape sitting at its edge, dabbling her feet in the water. 

Fortunately the cups next to his room’s coffeemaker had to-go lids. Clyde carried both cups outside, one on top of the other and braced under his chin, and when he got to the pool Rey stood to take one without any self-consciousness. “Thanks.” 

Clyde kicked off his boots - he hadn’t tied them - and they sat down. The water was chillier than he liked, but he wasn’t going to complain, and it did feel good against his soles. 

They drank coffee in silence for a while, before Clyde summoned the words to break it. “I meant what I said.” 

Rey stared down at the ripples made by the slow swing of her feet. “You don’t have to.” 

He shrugged, broad enough so she could catch it out of the corner of her eye, and took another sip. 

“I already owe you and your sister. Driving me here, putting me up...” 

Clyde considered and discarded several arguments. “Remember the truck stop?” 

There’d been at least two or three of them, but he knew she’d understand which one he meant. Rey frowned a little, but nodded. 

“Could have been bad.” Clyde flexed his toes in the cold. “Could have been _real_ bad. But you helped.” 

Never mind that his attack of panic had been spurred by thinking about Rey in the first place; Clyde was quite aware that the particular chain of thought that had set him off could have occurred at any time. _Without you, I might have run the car off the road. Or smashed something up and gotten arrested, or worse. Or just gone back in my head and never come out, never remembered._

But he couldn’t say that. “Lemme do this, Rey.” It was all he could manage. “Please.” 

She shot him a look that was almost betrayed. “You already gave me a _thousand fucking dollars,_ W- Clyde.” 

“That’s different,” he said immediately. 

Rey’s brows went up, incredulous, and Clyde huffed. “Look. We, all of us, came - came into some money not too long ago, an’ one thing we agreed was that we’d - what’s it - _pay it forward_. Because we’d been there.” 

“You didn’t remember that when you gave it to me,” Rey pointed out dryly. 

He shrugged again. “Doesn’t matter. You can do the same. When you can.” 

Another long silence. Clyde took heart; she still hadn’t said _no._ “You said you don’t like it here none,” he pointed out. “An’ if you don’t say yes, you’ll have to deal with Mellie.” 

Rey sputtered, and started laughing. “Anything but that,” she choked. “Your sister is _relentless_.” 

“Yep.” Clyde hid his smirk behind his cup. 

She kicked at the water, looking down as if the splashes were fascinating. “Okay.” 

Once again, that pulse of relief. “Okay,” he echoed, and that was enough. 

They sat in peace until Mellie’s texts demanding they show up for breakfast shattered the quiet. 

* * *

“You ready?” 

Rey hesitated, then nodded, pulling her pack from her shoulder and dumping it into the trunk of the Pontiac. Clyde was leaning against the driver’s side door, watching her quietly. “This feels weird.” 

“Suppose it does.” He pushed off the car and opened the door, folding himself down inside, and Rey did the same on the passenger side. The motel’s lot was slowly emptying as travelers left, and it gave Rey a bit of a pang to know that Mellie was already gone. Clyde had offered to drive her to the airport, but Mellie had insisted on taking a taxi since her flight was so early. 

They’d all spent one quiet day before going their separate ways. Rey had made herself scarce so the siblings could have some time together, finding the closest library so she could run more job searches on its wifi, but Mellie had called her back for dinner. They’d eaten Thai food in their room - Rey tasting everything cautiously, Mellie explaining each dish, Clyde stealing his sister’s prawns while she wasn’t looking - and, oddly enough, it was the most _comfortable_ Rey had felt since leaving Eunice. 

Rey put on her seatbelt. Clyde had his prosthesis on the wheel and his hand on his thigh, looking at her calmly. “Where to?” 

Rey bit her lip. She’d thought about it already, but it still seemed like a lot to ask. “Not San Francisco, it’s too expensive. Eugene? Maybe Portland?” 

“Sounds good.” He turned the key, and the engine roared to life. 

No matter what Clyde said, the whole situation felt wildly out of balance to Rey. If he still felt he owed her something - though it seemed the other way around to her - giving her all that money had surely been enough. 

Despite her words it hadn’t been Mellie’s insistence that had moved Rey, in the end. That, she could walk away from, difficult as it might be. 

But she couldn’t turn her back on Clyde’s quiet request. Even if she couldn’t say why. 

Sitting next to him as he maneuvered their way out of the city was _definitely_ weird, though. _I have no idea who this person is._

No, that wasn’t entirely true. Judging from what Mellie had said, he wasn’t that different from West; similar enough, in fact, that Rey felt as safe traveling with Clyde as she had with West. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her. 

_It’s stupid to think of him as two different people,_ Rey chided herself as they merged onto the highway headed north. _Hell, we’re not even headed west any more._

“‘M sure you got questions,” Clyde said abruptly, and Rey almost jumped. “You can ask.” 

She glanced over at him, that stoic profile barely softened by the fall of his hair, and felt amusement bubble up, all unexpected. “But you might not answer?” 

His lips twitched, crooking up, and just that little bit of a smile made her grin. “I do reserve that right.” 

“Fair.” Rey sat back, settling her shoulders against the seat. “Okay, I have a question then.” She watched his hand tighten on the steering wheel, and felt an odd rush of - affection, maybe. “Why the _hell_ haven’t you gotten your air conditioning fixed?” 

The sharp crack of his laugh made her grin. 

* * *

They got into Eugene just around sunset, stopping for a quick supper at a drive-through. Rey kept her mouth shut when Clyde chose a motel closer to the level of the one in San Jose than the ones they’d stayed at before, but when he asked for two rooms something in her rebelled, and she tugged on his sleeve to make him step aside for a moment. 

“You can just get one,” she said in a low voice. “We’ve shared before.” 

Clyde’s brows drew together. “Not for _sleepin’_.” 

“What difference does that make?” It was _so much_ _money_ for two rooms, and it wasn’t like either of them slept in the nude - 

He shook his head firmly. “Wouldn’t be right,” he said, and stepped back to the patient desk clerk, leaving Rey to hiss in frustration. 

She waited until they were walking down the hall to their rooms. “West - Clyde, sorry - one room would be cheaper. You think there’s something wrong with sharing?” She felt almost insulted. 

His jaw shifted. “Not like that. It’s just - “ He glanced at her, his expression inscrutable. “Where I come from, it’s just manners. I gotta do it this way, Rey.” 

She rolled her eyes. Obviously there was no point in arguing further just then, but her irritation remained. 

Clyde stopped at his door, fumbling a little with the keycard before he got it into the slot. “You can still call me West,” he said, pulling on the handle. “I don’t mind.” 

Rey blinked, and he cocked his head. “Does your key work?” 

It did, and Clyde watched until she got the door open. “See you in the morning,” she said, too caught between surprise and lingering annoyance to be anything but neutral. 

He nodded at her, and stepped into his room. 

Rey sat up in bed for a while that night, flipping through channels on the TV and thinking about Clyde. West. _Whatever._

They’d spent the drive mostly in silence again, but it hadn’t felt oppressive. Apparently Clyde was just a quiet person on the whole; Rey didn’t mind, and this time she figured she at least could talk if she wanted to, but she’d enjoyed the quiet too. 

She had asked a couple of careful questions about what, exactly, he remembered, and he’d told her that he had most of his trip across the country back, but was still fuzzy about the two days he’d spent between San Jose and Montana. Rey hadn’t asked _why_ the whole mess had started; that was his private business. 

She’d offered up a few details in return, about working for Plutt - nothing _too_ revealing, but seeing his jaw tighten in anger had been satisfying somehow. 

_Nobody ever did anything for me,_ she thought now, shutting off the TV and curling up on her side. _Not since Maz died. But you did._ Helping her escape Eunice, stopping Plutt, that level _that ain’t right._

It wasn’t gratitude, or not _just_ gratitude. It was the awe of being acknowledged, the proof that she was worth the trouble. 

Certainly Mellie had done the same, almost more than Rey could handle, but West had been the _first._

Rey had looked forward to escaping for _years_. She’d spun endless dreams of what triumphs she might achieve, knowing all the while that she would most likely have to struggle for ages if she survived at all; nebulous imaginings of well-paying work or even college, of friends, of somehow finding her long-vanished parents. 

She still had hopes of the cities West had spoken of. Something a little less wealthy and glittering than San Jose, but big enough that she could slip into it and make a place for herself. 

Yet. 

_I’m not afraid to be on my own_. Rey knew she was strong; she had survived loneliness before and she could do it again. 

But the image of Clyde driving away again, this time forever, made her chest ache. 

_Stupid,_ she told herself. _You barely know him. He’s just doing you a favour, no matter how he tries to justify it._

Rey closed her eyes. _You should choose as soon as you can,_ she told herself. _He deserves to go home, so he can start healing. Driving you around is just putting it off._

Eventually, she slept. 

* * *

Rey spent the next day wandering around Eugene, leaving Clyde to his own devices after breakfast. It was a pretty place, with trees everywhere and mountains as a backdrop, and it was the first place she could remember going that was actually _cool_ \- enough that Rey kind of wished she had a sweater. 

It lacked San Jose’s hard glitter, too. Rey sat outside a coffeeshop and poached their wifi, scrolling through job listings to try to get a feel for what was wanted. The more she looked online, the clearer it was that she would have to be hired under the table, but at least she’d know where to start looking. 

Eugene had a few listings for auto mechanics, but most of them required certification. Rey put down her phone, a little despondent, a little relieved. The city was nice, but... 

_I don’t want to stay._

Was it because she didn’t like the place? Because her chances of a job were thin? Or because she didn’t want to watch the Pontiac disappear down the road again? 

_Could be all three,_ she acknowledged sourly. If she were a better person, Rey thought, she would layer on cheer when she went back to the motel, tell Clyde that Eugene suited her perfectly, and see him off with a wave. It was still hugely better than what she’d hoped for when she’d run out of Eunice; it might have fewer opportunities than San Jose but it felt friendlier. _Even if I’d have to spend some of that thousand on a coat._

She almost talked herself into it as she headed back to the motel. _Just smile,_ she told herself. _He doesn’t know you, not really._ Lying was second nature anyway, she’d learned how years ago; a lie could roll off her tongue as smoothly as the truth if she needed to protect herself. 

Surely she could do it in the service of someone else. 

Clyde was sitting in the lobby, absorbed in a paperback book clasped in his prosthesis, and Rey squinted at the cover. _Clockwork Boys,_ the title read. She’d never heard of it, but it - it looked like a book she’d want to read. 

He lifted his head, brows going up. “Ready for supper?” 

Rey looked at him, and the lie dissolved. “Sure.” 

As if to counter his insistence on separate rooms, Clyde chose another fast-food place for the meal, close enough to the motel that they could just walk. “I’m buyin’,” he reminded her quietly, holding the outer door open for her; Rey bounced forward and grabbed the handle of the inner one, opening it for him in turn. 

“I won’t argue,” she said, cocking her head. Clyde’s mustache twitched, and for a moment she thought _he_ was going to protest, but then he passed through the door. Rey though she heard him huff, and grinned at his back. 

She restrained herself at the counter, just requesting a meal combo, even though lunch had been one hot dog from a convenience store. Clyde regarded her, one eyebrow climbing, then added an extra serving of fries to the order. 

“I get your point,” he said as they sat down, sounding faintly amused, and shoved the fries in between their trays. “Not gonna stop, though.” 

Rey considered that. She didn’t _really_ want to fight with him. Maybe they had said enough on the issue; and he’d acknowledged her feelings about it. 

She grabbed a few fries and stuffed them in her mouth, and saw the line of Clyde’s shoulders relax. 

They were halfway through the meal before he spoke again. “What d’you think of this one?” 

For some reason, instead of a soda or coffee, he’d ordered three of the little milk boxes meant for kids, which Rey found both hilarious and endearing; she looked at them lined up precisely along the top edge of his tray. “It’s nice.” 

It was as close as she could get to the lie. Clyde ate a large bite of burger, swallowing before speaking again. “But it ain’t the right one.” 

He didn’t sound disappointed, or impatient; just calm. Rey hesitated, trying to formulate an explanation that didn’t sound like she was blowing Eugene off, but Clyde beat her to it. “Portland next then?” 

It was her turn to relax. Rey nodded, and he nodded back. “So what’d you see?” 

Rey told him about her day, the places she’d seen, the cool air so different from the desert, the one garage whose manager had told her firmly that he wasn’t hiring. Clyde never said much in response, but he _listened,_ and - it was such a change, to have someone _pay attention_. 

She tried not to chatter on too long, but it seemed like talking to him helped Rey clarify what she’d learned over the course of the day - what she’d liked, what she hadn’t, what she might or might not prefer in some other city. 

When she closed the door of her room behind her and threw the lock - and again Clyde had waited to see if her keycard worked - Rey stared at the neutral little space and realized that it felt...empty. 

“It’s just because you’ve been around people for days,” she muttered to herself, half in an effort to make _some_ noise in the carpeted hush. 

But underneath she knew that setting off by herself when she found her city was going to be very lonely indeed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Clockwork Boys_ is by T. Kingfisher and is a _wonderful_ book. It's available through the usual channels; if you're trying to avoid a particular vendor, you can get it directly from the publisher, Argyll Productions.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure The Title Wave is still actually open, but see: fiction. 
> 
> [Little Free Library](https://littlefreelibrary.org/)

Clyde was relieved when they pulled out of Eugene. It was a pretty place, he supposed, but it wasn’t the right fit for Rey; that was obvious. _Your opinion don’t matter,_ he reminded himself, watching the signs for the highway, but it was good to know she felt the same. 

Rey was silent that morning, watching out the window as they made the short trip to Portland. Her eyes widened at the sight of the river, and Clyde realized with an odd pang that unless she’d managed to get to the bay in San Jose, it was probably the biggest body of water she’d ever seen. 

He already had a motel reservation, he’d looked it up before breakfast - booking two rooms, because it was the right thing to do and his momma would rise up from her grave to scold him if he didn’t. Even if he missed Rey sitting in the other bed or dismantling some appliance with the little roll of tools from her pack. 

He tried to tell himself it was just protectiveness, but even with his penchant for ignoring his own truths Clyde knew that was nonsense. He _liked_ Rey. Despite the differences in their ages, backgrounds, upbringing, experience - just about every damn thing - he liked her. She was no harder to talk to than anyone else, and easy to be silent with; he liked the way her eyes sparkled when she was excited, and her courage, and her sense of humor. 

When it came to his social life, Clyde had drinking buddies. He had old comrades from his Army days, though they didn’t keep in touch much. He had his family, and that was important. But he didn’t have many _friends_. Come to that, he counted Mellie and Jimmy as friends, as well as being the occasionally annoying siblings that they were. 

But if the definition of a friend was someone you could be comfortable with, Rey fit the bill. And for him, at least, that was a rare thing. 

Clyde found himself wondering if she felt the same way. It wasn’t like he could _ask_. 

_We could stay in touch afterwards,_ he found himself thinking, though the notion was tinged with wistfulness. _Emails, letters. Hell, I’d text her if I had to._

Somehow that didn’t seem like it would be enough, even if Rey wanted to, but Clyde filed the notion away for later. 

They crossed the water and plunged into the city. Clyde cleared his throat, pulling Rey’s gaze from their surroundings. “Tell you what,” he said. “I can drop you off where you want to start. Then when you’re done you text me. I’ll come pick you up.” 

Rey frowned, opening her mouth, but Clyde looked back out the windshield. “Ain’t no hardship,” he added firmly. 

There was a long silence, and then - “You’re that bored?” Rey asked drolly. 

Clyde snorted a laugh. “Keeps me out of trouble,” he shot back, and she snickered. 

“Sure, why not.” Rey sighed a little. “I’m used to working hard, but not so much _walking._ ” 

He was a little surprised that she didn’t argue. Clyde dropped Rey off at the corner she specified, and went off to find the motel. 

It was a slow day, but...he didn’t mind. Clyde answered a couple of emails, one from Mellie, one from Earl. The latter was looking after Duck Tape - had been since the folks at home had figured out Clyde was missing - and _that_ gratitude was a burden, though Clyde didn’t resent it. Earl wouldn’t hold it over his head; Clyde would just let him drink for free until Earl decided he’d had enough of it, and that would settle the matter. 

Earl was a friend too, Clyde admitted. Not that either of them would ever so much as mention it; Earl was almost as spare with his words as Clyde was. But it was just this kind of thing that proved it, and Clyde would have done the same for Earl if the situation called for it, except that he didn’t know a damn thing about fixing cars. 

_Rey would._

Clyde considered the idea from various angles. Earl and Rey would like each other, he thought; it was too bad they’d never meet. 

For some reason, that made him scowl. Clyde left their bags in their respective rooms, and went to find a bookstore. He wanted something to read; it would help him pass the time, and keep him from thinking too much. 

_There’s always drinking,_ the back of his mind pointed out, but Clyde ignored it. He wasn’t going to take the edge off that way, not when he was responsible for someone else. He knew his limits; but, like sharing a motel room for sleeping, it just wasn’t _right._

He spent a couple of pleasant hours in The Title Wave, torn between old favorites and new possibilities; Clyde missed his shelves of books, all a few thousand miles away just now. He’d packed in such a hurry that he hadn’t included any books at all, and he was starting to feel the lack despite the two he’d picked up earlier in the week. And it wasn’t like he didn’t have room in the car for a few. 

_I wonder if Rey likes to read._

Jimmy wasn’t one for books, though when Sadie had been younger he’d read to her by the hour; Mellie went through thrillers like popcorn. Clyde liked fantasy himself, though he too had read to a small Sadie from time to time, piled together in his momma’s old rocker; his niece had lost interest when she’d gotten older, though given the way the girl switched hobbies Clyde figured she’d swing back around to reading sooner or later. Last he’d heard she was trying out drawing her own comics; with that thought Clyde made a pass through the kids’ section to pick up a couple of how-to books, and arranged to have them shipped. 

He wandered around for a little while; Portland was an interesting place. But by late afternoon Clyde found himself back at the motel, working his way through _The Orphans of Raspay_ and trying not to wait for his phone to ping with a text. 

It didn’t come until nearly dark, when he was starting to fret. The address wasn’t that far away, a big grocery store with a lot of customers coming in and out; Clyde pulled up in front of it, a bit puzzled, but before he could get out his phone Rey was coming out of the store, looking irritated. 

She was walking at a normal speed, but something about the way she held herself hinted that she wanted to move faster, and Clyde frowned. He leaned over to open the door for her. 

Rey slid in smoothly, shutting the door and reaching for the seatbelt. “Can we just go?” she asked in a low voice. 

Clyde put the car into gear and pulled out of the lot, his frown growing. “You okay?” She didn’t _look_ hurt - 

Rey made an irritated noise. “I’m fine. There was just this cop - he followed me for like an _hour_. Then he stopped me and said he’d arrest me for vagrancy if I didn’t disappear.” 

She grimaced. “I mean, he’s not wrong, but it’s not like I was going to steal something!” 

Clyde’s hand clenched down on the steering wheel. He didn’t mess with cops - it was a bad idea when you owned a bar and had a record besides - but her words made him want to turn around and go teach the man a lesson. Rey had her arms folded tightly across her chest, and he figured she was frightened as well as mad. 

“Asshole,” he mumbled. He couldn’t take his hand off the wheel to pat her shoulder. “Shouldn’t be allowed.” 

Rey shrugged, hunching down a bit further in her seat. “Guess I’ve been lucky so far.” 

Clyde couldn’t think of anything to say, because she was right. It made him mad, that Rey - straightforward, honest Rey, who had run away from horror and was just looking to make her life better - should be harassed by someone who should have been on her side. 

He wasn’t blind. Clyde watched the news, he knew she’d gotten off lightly, that the color of her skin probably saved her from far worse. But it was still _wrong._

Rey rubbed her face with one hand. “Look, can - can we just pick something up and eat at the motel?” 

Clyde nodded. He could do that, at least. 

* * *

Rey sat crosslegged on the motel bed, working her way through the box of pizza in front of her. It was Clyde’s room, but she’d made him take the one chair; he too was eating, though he was still glowering into the middle distance. 

It made her chest ache, but in a good way. She’d only meant to explain why she’d fled the grocery store; the subsequent growl in Clyde’s voice, the frown on his face, reminded her of their first day together, when he’d thrown Plutt to the ground to defend her. 

She didn’t know why he should care so much - but the fact that he did warmed her stomach far more than the pizza did. 

Clyde finally pulled his attention back to the here and now, looking down at his own box and then handing her his last slice. Rey took it with a nod of thanks; if he wasn’t going to eat it, it certainly shouldn’t go to waste. 

He cleared his throat. “Seattle tomorrow?” 

“Yeah.” Portland was a big place, Rey knew she could probably avoid that particular cop, but the incident had soured her on the city. “Yeah, definitely.” 

His scowl eased further. Rey swallowed her bite. “What’d you do today? If you don’t mind saying.” 

Clyde wiped his mustache with a paper napkin. “Found a bookstore.” 

She was instantly jealous; just because she couldn’t afford to buy books didn’t mean she didn’t _want_ to. “Did you find anything?” 

“Couple things.” Clyde gave her a considering look, then reached out a long arm to snag the bag at the other end of the table, passing it to her. 

Rey scrubbed her hands on her pants before reaching inside, lest she leave pizza grease on his purchases. Three books slid into her hands, and she scanned the titles: _The Orphans of Raspay, The Dubious Hills,_ and _Bone Dance_. They all looked like fantasy novels. “Are they any good?” 

“Yep.” Clyde flipped his pizza box shut. “Haven’t read the Bujold before, but I got copies of the other two at home.” 

“They look good.” Rey turned them over one at a time to read the back blurbs; when she looked up, Clyde was holding out the book she’d seen him reading the day before. 

“I finished this one. If you want to borrow it,” he said, almost shyly. 

She had to stop herself from _grabbing_ it. Rey beamed at him and took it gently. _“Thank you.”_

Clyde smiled back, blinking, then looked away. Rey put the other books back in their bag and examined the new one. The back blurb didn’t really tell her anything about the plot, but it was something to _read_ and she was not going to turn it down. “What’s it about?” 

He pursed his lips, clearly thinking. “Desperate folks doing desperate things,” he said finally. “And it don’t come out okay, not completely, but it’s still...satisfyin’.” 

_Desperate folks doing desperate things. Sounds like it’s right up our alley._

“Also tattoos that eat people,” Clyde added, and Rey almost choked. 

When she got up to return to her room, book in one hand, Clyde accompanied her down the hall to make sure, as usual, that her keycard worked. It was silly, Rey thought - she was perfectly capable of either knocking on his door or going down to the front desk for a new one. But the gesture warmed her; it wasn’t that he thought she was helpless, it was that he wanted to make sure she was all right. 

Maybe it was the scare she’d had earlier, maybe it was the book she held, maybe it was just Clyde being _careful_ , as if she were worth the effort instead of only valued for what work she could do; but when her door opened, Rey followed an impulse that had been dormant for over ten years, and hugged him. “Thank you,” she muttered into his shoulder. 

She _felt_ him gulp. His arms closed slowly around her, one warm, the other hard; something soft pressed against her crown, his cheek perhaps. 

For a long, long moment Rey felt nothing but comfort; it was as if Clyde’s hug was a form of safety, as if nothing bad could happen to her there. But it couldn’t last forever, so she loosened her grip and stepped back reluctantly. “See you in the morning?” 

His eyes were huge and dark, but Clyde jerked his head in a nod. “Mm-hm.” 

Rey smiled at him, and closed her door. 

The book comforted her that night. Even if it hadn’t been good - and it was _excellent_ \- it kept her from brooding over what had happened with the cop. 

Up to that moment, Rey had been, on some level, _dazzled_ by the cities she’d seen. Even when she didn’t like them, even when she was walking down grimy streets or looking at stores with bars on their windows, she had still felt a sense of freedom that she’d never experienced before. It wasn’t just that she couldn’t remember any place bigger than Carlsbad; it was that she could _choose_. No one was watching her movements, no one was telling her to be back before such and such a time or she’d regret it, no one was burdening her with errands or chores. Rey knew each time that she was balancing on a thin edge of survival, stayed only by West’s odd few days of support, but it was _her_ survival and _her_ choices. 

Realizing that someone was watching her, _following_ her - it felt like the old prison bars were closing around her again. All the worse because it was a cop. Rey didn’t know what would happen to her if she were arrested, but she knew it wouldn’t be good - she had no ID, no address, nothing. She couldn’t even prove that she was an adult, though what had passed for her twenty-first birthday had gone by more than a year prior. 

No, she had no desire to stay in Portland. 

Rey read until she fell asleep, and dreamed of deserts under gentle rain - absurd, but somehow peaceful. 

They got a late start the next morning; Rey had been waiting in the lobby for almost forty-five minutes before Clyde came down. It didn’t matter - they didn’t have a long trip ahead of them and she had the book to read - but Rey still eyed him cautiously as they made their way out to the Pontiac. He looked more blank than usual, and there were shadows under his eyes. 

“Are you okay?” she asked finally, as he started the engine. 

“Fine,” he mumbled, and pulled out of the parking space before glancing over at her. “Somethin’ on my mind, that’s all,” he added in a lighter voice. 

“Okay.” Rey relaxed a little. It wasn’t any of her business, really, except she couldn’t help worrying about him. 

He picked a diner for breakfast this time. Rey worked her way through a very large omelette and cereal on the side, and watched Clyde methodically eat toast and eggs and bacon. 

Finally she gave in and asked the question that had been bothering her for _days_. “Why are you eating bacon now? Before - before, you would get it and then just leave it.” 

Clyde looked down at his plate, still chewing. “I like it burnt,” he said after a moment. “Can’t get it that way at restaurants so I eat it like it is.” 

The rest of the explanation was self-evident; he he hadn’t been able remember how he liked bacon, so it hadn’t seemed right to him when he’d ordered it. 

Rey dropped her gaze to her own food, then asked the _other_ question she’d been holding back. “Are you going to be okay?” 

Clyde was silent so long that Rey looked back up to retract the question, but before she could form the words he exhaled. “I dunno.” 

He looked so lost that Rey set down her fork and reached across the table to him; her right hand to his left, so she had to wrap her fingers around his prosthesis. “Can I help?” 

Clyde stared at her clasp, and she thought he was going to tug his arm away, but then his hand came up to cover hers, warm and wide. 

“You are,” he muttered, voice so low that Rey almost couldn’t make it out. 

She had no name for the emotion that filled her, soft and warm as his touch. Rey tightened her grip, knowing he could feel it under his fingers if not through the plastic. “Good,” she whispered, not knowing what else to say, but the way his mouth curled up told her it was enough. 

* * *

He didn’t know what to do. 

It was a three-hour trip to Seattle - rain slowed down the traffic - and Clyde spent most of it brooding. Rey didn’t seem to notice, or if she did she was letting him alone, and he was grateful for it. He snuck peeks at her from time to time as she watched the passing landscape out the window, still absorbed by a landscape so different from what she’d grown up with. 

He didn’t know if Seattle would fit her. But Clyde figured the odds would be good, and...and then what? 

_You go home,_ he told himself. _Get on with things, find a shrink, get back behind the bar. Let Rey go make somethin’ of her life._

The trouble was - he didn’t _want_ to. 

Part of it was knowing he would have to finally deal with the demons in his head. He’d looked them in the eye at last, but they were still there, and he couldn’t go on ignoring them. 

And...he didn’t want to leave Rey alone, almost three thousand miles across the country. _Too far away,_ Clyde thought fretfully. _What if somethin’ bad happens?_ It would take hours to reach her, maybe as much as a day. 

If he knew about it. If she even could _tell_ him about it - what if she got in an accident, got sick, couldn’t call? 

The notion made _him_ feel sick. 

_You don’t even know if she would want to._ They hadn’t discussed what would happen after Rey found a city she liked. Most likely, she would thank him, shake his hand, say goodbye. Maybe even hug him again _._

_Maybe she’ll let you call once in a while. Just to make sure she’s okay._

She had her whole life ahead of her, he reminded himself, firmly repressing the idea of hanging around until she found a job at least. He was just the way she’d got out of a bad situation, same as she was to him, and that was it. _Don’t you be an asshole, stickin’ around where you’re not wanted._

Rey finally turned away from the window, settling back in her seat with a sigh. “I really like the book,” she said cheerfully. “I wasn’t expecting it to be _funny_.” 

Clyde felt his mood soften. “Author’s good at that.” 

They discussed it for a few minutes, though Rey hadn’t finished it, and then she pulled it out of her pack and picked up where she’d left off. She wasn’t a fast reader, Clyde saw; it took her a while to finish a page, and sometimes she would follow the print with her finger, like a kid learning to read. But she was absorbed in the story, smiling faintly, and Clyde didn’t disturb her. 

The city gleamed wetly in the gray light when they reached it. Clyde navigated to the location Rey had requested that morning, and squinted doubtfully at the sky. “You should have an umbrella or somethin’.” 

Rey laughed. “Are you kidding, I want to _feel_ this!” She shot him a grin and swung the door open. “See you in a few hours.” 

She climbed out, barely shutting the door again before lifting her face to the water falling out of the sky. And Clyde was transfixed. 

She was just a shabby figure, still too thin, standing on a sidewalk on an anonymous street; but the sight of her smiling, eyes lit, as the rain sifted down - he couldn’t look away. It was pure joy, and how often did he see that? 

Then the car behind him honked, and Clyde jolted, glancing around and pressing the accelerator. By the time he had a chance to check the rear-view mirror, Rey was gone. 

But the image lingered, and he pored over it like he might a photograph, setting it into memory. For a long moment he wondered what it might be like if they did just keep going - driving on and on, city to city, vista to vista - not in search of a stopping place, but just to see what there was to see. Enjoying the trip, and the company. Rey had experienced so little in her life, and for all his time in the service Clyde hadn’t seen much more - they could do so much - 

_That’s not what this is for._ He cut the fantasy off with a brutal jerk. _You owe her. You’re helpin’ her. That’s all._

As had become routine, he found a motel for them, but once he’d booked the rooms and dropped Rey’s pack off in hers, Clyde found himself sitting in the single armchair his room boasted and staring at nothing. 

His mind kept bouncing back and forth between his two problems, just as it had the night before. Rey didn’t know, couldn’t know that her hug had made him aware of just how much Clyde didn’t want to leave her behind. 

He kept hitting that dead end, and circling back to the problem of dealing with his...issues. 

The truth was, he didn’t _want_ to go home. Not yet. Not when his demons were still riding him, when he was afraid deep down that they could rise up and claim him again. 

He knew his home town. People were kind enough, but the moment he turned up he’d be a target for gossip and speculative looks, and he’d had a crawful of that when he’d come back from Iraq maimed and sullen. And much as he wanted to see his brother and sister again - _needed_ to - Clyde dreaded crossing the border of the town and walking into all the old expectations and the new speculations. 

But, tempting as it was to keep driving without end, he couldn’t do that to his family. And even his share of the heist would run out eventually. 

None of the choices were palatable - at least the possible ones. 

Clyde might have sat in one spot until Rey texted him, but for one last fragment of common sense. _Do **something** before you fall right back down into that pit._

It was still raining, and for whatever reason he hadn’t packed a jacket. Clyde removed his prosthesis before pulling on an old sweatshirt; water wasn’t good for the mechanism, and he was too big for an umbrella to keep it dry enough, bits kept sticking out. 

He went out into the rain and walked, trying to outpace his thoughts and only partly succeeding; but movement was better than doing nothing. 

* * *

“I don’t know.” The young man in coveralls gave Rey a speculative look - not hostile, more curious. “You’d have to ask the bosses, and they won’t be in until tomorrow.” 

Rey nodded, trying to keep her eagerness off her face. “I could come by then?” 

“Sure, if you want.” A car drove into the garage’s lot, and the young man - whose embroidered name-patch read _Yusuf_ \- turned to watch it come in. “‘Scuse me - “ 

Rey slipped away. The auto shop was the fifth one she’d visited in Seattle, and the first that had given her any hope at all of getting a job there. Which, compared her experiences in Eugene and San Jose, was actually an improvement. 

She was damp all over though the rain had stopped, very footsore, and halfway to lost, but on the whole Rey had had a good day. Seattle just kept _going_ ; and she hadn’t limited herself to repair places either. There were any number of restaurants with Help Wanted signs in their windows, and while Rey had never waited tables in her life, she figured she could bus tables and wash dishes with the best of them if that was what she could find. 

She’d gotten another all-day bus pass, but there was still a lot of walking involved. Rey went from area to area, skipping the more expensive neighborhoods and looking for small-scale industrial places, then getting off the bus and scanning the street for possibilities as she went. She was more exhilarated than annoyed by the chill of her wet clothes; walking was enough to keep her warm, mostly, and she wasn’t quite willing to nip into a shop for coffee. She’d splurged on a whole sandwich for lunch, after all, even after the big breakfast West had bought her. 

The old name still came first to mind half the time. Underneath her interest in the new city, and the hope of possibilities, Rey was aware that she was going to miss Clyde very much when she told him she’d found her place and he left. 

It only made sense, really; he was the first person who’d been kind to her in ever so long. And more than that. _He’s - he’s kind of a friend._

 _No. He **is** a friend._

Rey had kept a couple of friends for a few years, after Plutt pulled her out of school; but she rarely had time to spend with them, and they gradually drifted away. _Or left; Luis headed for Austin as soon as he could get out._ And she’d envied him bitterly. 

West...Clyde...was just a friend for a little while. Rey understood that. And she’d survived years alone - she could, would, _had to_ do it again. 

It really was going to hurt like hell, though. 

The clouds broke late in the afternoon, the sun striking gleams from the puddles. Rey was still damp, but the warming air felt good on her skin. 

The rain had been a revelation. Of course it rained in Eunice, but very rarely, and it was usually brief, hard storms. The pattering veil sweeping through Seattle’s streets had been like something she’d dreamed, so far from the dust and hard ground of Eunice that it could have been another planet. 

Rey was looking for a place to sit and rest her feet for a bit when something caught her eye. It looked almost like a dollhouse on a post; she’d seen a similar one earlier through the bus window, but she hadn’t had time to figure out what it was. _A birdhouse maybe? Weird place for it, right by the sidewalk._

The gaily painted wooden box had a pitched roof and a transparent front, and the words _Little Free Library_ stenciled on the side. Rey approached it cautiously, half-afraid that someone was going to yell at her for daring to look at it, but no one passing by spared her a glance when she reached out to pull the door open. 

It had two shelves inside, and it was full of _books._

She looked them over, pulling out a couple with careful fingers. They were mostly children’s picture books, with a couple of mystery novels and young adult stuff mixed in. A name caught her eye, and Rey snatched in a breath, lifting the volume out entirely. 

_So You Want to Be a Wizard._ It was a different edition than her own lost copy, but the same beloved text met her eyes when she opened it. Rey bit her lip. 

_I shouldn’t_. But to read it again - how could she _not?_

She looked the library over for instructions, or a donation box; checked the book for a price. Nothing. _Do I have to be a member?_

Rey hesitated over using her precious minutes on something frivolous, but in the end she searched the term on her phone. And felt her eyes go wide with surprise. _Wait, I can just **take** one?_ _For **free**? _

She had no book to offer in return, but it didn’t seem mandatory. Rey held the book tightly, closing the door of the box and glancing around half-guiltily, just in case someone disapproved; but again, no passerby was paying the least attention. 

It was a good thing that there was a set of benches in the next block, because Rey was almost ready to sit down on the curb and start reading. She tucked herself in the corner of the bench and opened the book, and dove into the familiar, beloved story; forgetting, for a little while, every trouble she had. 

* * *

She didn’t text Clyde until sunset. It wasn’t that Rey had found that many more possible places to work; it was more that she wanted a chance to think. Where San Jose had felt hard and unwelcoming, Seattle seemed easier, more friendly. Rey was pretty sure there were as many bad spots in this city as in any other, but she still liked it much better than any of the others they’d visited, bar maybe Bakersfield. 

_I think this is the place._

But when she finally typed in her location, Rey couldn’t quite figure out how to say _Thank you, I’m done._

“How’d it go?” Clyde asked when she slid into her seat. 

“Pretty well, actually.” Rey twisted to reach for the seatbelt. “One place I asked at told me to come back tomorrow and talk to the boss.” 

He was silent for a long moment. “That’s good,” he said finally, pulling into traffic. “That’s real good.” 

“Maybe.” Rey was trying not to let her hopes rise too far. “The boss could still say no.” 

“Not if he’s smart,” Clyde said, and she had to smile. “So you want to stay another day?” 

“Yeah. If that’s okay.” Rey fidgeted with the binding on her book. She’d left her pack with Clyde that morning, and had no bag to carry it in. 

“‘Course.” The word was firm. “What d’you got there?” 

Rey looked down at her prize. “Oh - I found this free library thing. They let you just _take_ a book, and I used to have this one.” She didn’t try to keep back her grin. 

“What’s it about?” He actually sounded interested. 

“A couple of kids who learn how to be wizards, and then they have to save the world.” She smoothed the binding again. “I loved it so much. There’s a whole series, but I’ve only ever read the first one.” 

“Sounds interestin’.” Clyde signaled for a turn. “Is it a magic school?” 

“No, they have books, but no school - at least not a magic one.” 

He nodded, saying nothing else for a few blocks. “D’you mind if we eat at the motel again?” he said at a red light. “We can pick something up on the way.” 

“Sure, that’s fine,” Rey replied. It sounded nice, actually; sharing the pizzas the night before had been kind of fun, eating in their own space instead of a noisy restaurant. Maybe West liked the quiet too. 

It wasn’t until he parked in the motel lot, and Rey got out with her hands full of burger bags and her book tucked under her elbow, that she noticed his left arm was bare. The words fell out before she could stop them. “Oh - what happened to your prosthesis?” 

Clyde glanced down at his left side. “Nothin’, just didn’t want to get it wet.” 

“And you told _me_ to get an umbrella.” Rey grinned at him. 

He snorted, sounding amused, and lengthened his stride so he could hold the lobby door open for her. 

They went to his room again, and Rey tried not to stare, but she couldn’t help watching as Clyde sat on the bed to put his prosthesis back on. His arm looked odd - her eyes kept tripping over the space where his hand should have been - but there was nothing gross about it, just a cross-hatch scar on the end. He rolled a thin tube of cloth up over the stump before he settled his arm in the prosthesis, then snapped the pincers once or twice, and Rey was irresistibly reminded of how Maz used to do the same thing with tongs every time she pulled them out of the kitchen drawer. 

He looked up, brows drawn together defensively, but Rey just held out one bag. “I think this one’s yours.” 

Clyde grunted and took it, and Rey delved into her own. 

They ate in comfortable silence, but he was glowering at his food again, and when Rey had finished the last crumb of her burger she cocked her head to regard him. “What’s bothering you?” 

Clyde stared down at the fry in his hand before dragging it through the pool of ketchup on the paper wrapper. “Just...thinking about...what’s in my head.” 

She very carefully hadn’t asked, despite her curiosity. Rey didn’t ask now; she folded her trash into her bag without looking at him. “Want to talk about it?” she offered instead. 

She expected silence, or refusal. Instead, West sighed. “Did Mellie tell you ‘bout the Logan Curse?” 

“She mentioned it,” Rey said cautiously. “Something about bad things always happening in your family.” 

“Bad things canceling out good things,” he corrected. “Until - until just a little while ago. Thought it was broken.” 

“That...sounds like a good thing,” Rey hazarded, and he made a harsh sound somewhere between a cough and a laugh. 

“’S hard to explain. I just...when the Curse was alive I was okay. Balanced.” 

Clyde gestured, gripper skimming his temple. “Now it’s not. And I got things that need balancin’. Or - or that’s what it feels like.” 

Rey considered that. “Okay, makes sense.” She chose her words with care. “Is that why you, um, left San Jose?” 

His cheekbones pinkened. “Kind of.” When she opened her mouth he shook his head. 

“I was...sort of finding balance again. You did that,” he added, and went on before she could speak. “But what that guy said - “ He flicked one finger as if at a tower of cards, and whistled. “It all went away again.” 

Rey scrunched up her nose. “Sounds really uncomfortable.” 

This time he did laugh, one sharp bark of it. “It is that.” 

He was watching her sideways, from under his lashes, as if he expected her to be frightened again. But West hadn’t scared her in the truck stop, and she wasn’t scared now. “So...what are you going to do?” 

His hand opened, the gripper twitching as if to mirror the gesture. “I...s’pose I should see someone about all this.” 

Rey knew nothing about psychiatry, but Maz had impressed upon her that if you were sick you went to a doctor...if you could afford one. _Well, he can_. “That seems like a good idea.” 

He hunched his shoulders, staring down at his lap. Impulse had Rey rising to sit next to him on the edge, and since she’d sat on his left side she put her hand on his prosthesis again, about where his wrist would have been. “What is it?” 

She heard him swallow. “I don’t want to go home like this.” It was almost a whisper. “People’ll talk again an’ I don’t - “ 

“Then don’t,” Rey said firmly. “Don’t go home yet.” 

She kept her gaze on the spot where her hand lay, but in her peripheral vision she could see his head lifting to look at her. 

“I mean, you should definitely tell your family where you go,” Rey said, trying to lay her thoughts out clearly. “But why not stop somewhere and - and see a doctor? Then when you’re, um, better, you can go home.” 

Slowly, slowly, his hand lifted off the mattress and covered hers. Clyde muttered something under his breath that might have been a curse, then pulled in a long breath. “That’s...that’s a good idea.” 

Rey pressed her shoulder against his, a brief nudge. “You deserve to get better, West.” 

His hand tightened on hers, and she could hear the unevenness when he exhaled. “You think so?” 

“I know so.” And she did. Whatever burden he was carrying, whatever bad thing had happened, Rey knew the man she’d met on an empty road in New Mexico. A man whose first impulse was to help, not to turn away. Who worried that he frightened others. “No matter what it takes.” 

Their hands made an odd knot on top of his prosthesis, and belatedly Rey wondered if she shouldn’t be touching it, but he hadn’t objected before and he didn’t seem to be now. “Just make sure you _do_ tell your family,” she added wryly. “I hate to think what Mellie would do if you disappeared again.” 

Clyde chuckled; a little raw, but genuine. “Safer to leave the country.” 

Rey nudged him again, grinning herself, and stood up. “I got cookies, do you want one?” 

“Sure.” 

And if Clyde’s eyes were red-rimmed when Rey handed him the cookie, she pretended not to notice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More books! 
> 
> _The Orphans of Raspay_ is part of Lois McMaster Bujold's Penric and Desdemona series. Medieval fantasy - a boy and his demon, a demon and her boy...well, young man anyway. 
> 
> _The Dubious Hills_ is by Pamela Dean. Her books are rarely easy reads, but they are wonderful. 
> 
> _Bone Dance_ is by Emma Bull (and my favorite of her excellent body of work). Call this one post-apocalyptic fantasy, a little out of date now technologically but still a stunner. Really for adults only, though, due to some disturbing content. 
> 
> Also, Rey's gonna be pissed when she gets to the end of _Clockwork Boys_ and finds out it's part one of two. :P


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay, I am now officially at the end of pre-written stuff. This thing was supposed to top out at 35K.... *grumble* Hopefully the next chapter will be on time, but I guarantee nothing.

Rey woke so early the next morning that the sun was just beginning to shoot long rays down Seattle’s streets. She spent about five minutes dithering before giving up and scribbling a note on the motel stationary, pushing it under Clyde’s door before heading out. _I can’t wait._

It was far too early for the shop to be open, but that didn’t matter. Rey figured she could use the time to find her way back to it, with plenty of margin in case she had trouble. She was hungry - she was _always_ hungry - but she was too eager to wait for Clyde to wake for breakfast. 

In the end, it took Rey two bus rides and almost half an hour of walking to get back to the auto shop she wanted, but she arrived in plenty of time, a good forty minutes before it was due to open. It was dark and deserted, and Rey settled in to wait across the street, sitting on the curb and resting her arms on her knees. She couldn’t account for the spring of hope welling up in her chest, but it was undeniably there. 

It wasn’t just that the employee’s instruction to come back was the most positive sign she’d had among all the inquiries Rey had made so far, in any city; it was also that the shop’s lot was neat and the building’s front well-kept, and when Rey had run a quick search on the place, the reviews she’d seen had tended towards the complimentary. 

Rey knew that it was a long shot, this hope. She had no ID or Social Security number, no work history and no certification. Any job she was likely to get would be under the table and illegal, and therefore would pay little. She would get no health insurance. 

_But it’ll be a start. Something to survive on._ She didn’t care if she had to take two such jobs, or three; she would _survive._ And maybe, eventually, she’d be able to get some kind of official ID. 

_There must have been **something** , to get me signed up in school. _Though Rey wasn’t entirely sure about that; Eunice was a very small town, and her memory of the first day of classes was blurry. Still, she might be able to contact them and find out what her records said, now that she was beyond Plutt’s reach. _Hopefully beyond his reach, anyway._

A car drove into the lot across the way, parking at the far end of the space, and two women climbed out; both were dressed in the same style of coverall that Yusuf had worn the day before, and they chatted with one another as the taller one unlocked the front door. Rey popped to her feet and wiped her damp hands on her worn jeans, suddenly nervous. 

Taking a deep breath, she crossed the street. The women hadn’t locked the door behind them, though the place was still obviously closed; when she pulled, it swung open. Rey stepped inside. 

The shorter woman looked up from behind the counter, face blankly polite. “We’re not open yet.” 

“I know, I - I came to ask about a job.” Rey kept her chin up and her voice level. “Yusuf said yesterday that I should talk to the bosses.” 

The two women, who looked related, exchanged glances. “That would be us,” the taller one said. 

The other one peeled a sticky note from the counter and squinted at it. “He left a note. You can fill out an application online - “ 

Rey bit her lip, feeling a little sick. “I, um. I don’t have any identification.” 

The two exchanged a longer glance, obviously communicating with one another. The taller one cocked her head, eyeing Rey shrewdly. “Do you have any experience?” 

“Yeah. I worked in a garage in New Mexico for five years. I can handle most routine maintenance and I’m pretty good at diagnosis.” 

“Hm.” One more shared look. “We’d have to discuss it.” 

Rey opened her mouth to offer to come back later, but the shorter woman opened a hand. “Give us a few minutes, okay?” 

Surprised, Rey nodded, and the two women crossed the shop to disappear into a back office, though not without a speculative look or two at Rey. 

_That’s…more than I was expecting, actually._ Rey stood awkwardly where they’d left her, trying not to fidget, but the nervous energy was too much for her. Out of sheer desperation she began fiddling with the nearest display, eight rows of tree-shaped deodorizer tags in various scents. They were fairly jumbled up, and sorting them by scent gave Rey something to concentrate on while she waited. 

It probably wasn’t very long before the office door opened again, but it felt like forever; the tail end of laughter that emerged with the women wasn’t reassuring, but it didn’t sound mean. 

“I’m Paige, this is Rose,” the taller woman said as they came back. “Come on out to the floor.” 

Paige flipped on the overhead lights as they passed into the bays, the air dense with the smell of oil and rubber since the big doors were still shut. A Camry waited in the nearest bay, and Paige leaned into the car to unlatch the hood. “Tell me what you see,” she said, lifting the hood and stepping back. 

It was a test, then. Rey looked over the engine carefully; when she reached for the dipstick, Paige handed her a rag without comment. When Rey was done she straightened. 

“The battery leads are corroded, and the wiring to the cooling fan needs replacement. And whoever changed the oil the last time used the wrong weight.” 

Paige raised a brow. “Hm.” She almost sounded approving. 

Rose was setting up the register when they came in. “Three out of two,” Paige said a touch wryly, and Rose blinked, grinning a little. 

“Seriously? Okay then.” She looked Rey up and down. “Come on back to the office and let me interview you.” 

That seemed promising. The office was tiny, with one desk crammed with papers and a computer; there was just room for a second chair between the filing cabinets. The walls were covered with a mix of fireman-pinup calendars and kitten calendars, most of which were out of date. 

Rose dropped into the desk chair with enough force to make it squeak despite her diminutive size. “Have a seat,” she said cheerfully. “Want a water?” 

Rey shook her head. “No thanks.” 

Rose bent over, and Rey heard the thump of a magnetized door; when Rose straightened, she was holding a bottle of water. “Okay, here’s the thing.” 

She set the bottle on the desk and regarded Rey soberly. “Obviously, if we hire you would be, ah, unofficial, or in other words illegal. Which means I’m going to ask questions that are none of my business, because we’d have to have a good reason to break the law.” 

Rey swallowed. “Okay.” She clenched her hands in her lap. 

Rose twisted the cap off the bottle and took a drink. “Why don’t you have any ID?” 

Telling her story to West was one thing. Telling it to someone she’d just met was quite another. _If you want this job, you have to._

In a few quiet sentences, Rey sketched out her history. It sounded thin and unbelievable, as if she were making it up for sympathy, but there was no point in lying. 

When she finished, Rose regarded her for a moment, lips pursed, then pulled the computer keyboard closer to herself and started typing. “Well, Plutt’s Garage checks out,” she said. “No Website though.” 

Rey snorted. “The only thing he uses the Internet for is porn.” 

Rose made a face. “I’d hate to be _his_ Geek Squad.” She worked with the mouse for a couple of minutes. “Hm.” 

She sounded like her sister. Rey tried not to hold her breath. 

Finally she pushed the keyboard away and swung around to face Rey again. “Okay. Here’s the thing. We can only offer you part time, maybe twenty hours a week. We can pay about two bucks more than minimum wage and if the IRS shows up we are _totally_ going to throw you under the bus.” 

Rose’s grin was infectious. “We’ll give you a try - say for about a week? If that works, then we’ll put you on the schedule.” 

Rey smiled back, though her eyes were blurring. It felt as if every muscle she possessed had unclenched at once, relief flooding her like the reverse of adrenaline. “That…that’d be great.” 

Rose grabbed a pen and flipped over a sheet of paper. “Give me your phone number, and your size so we can get you a coverall. Can you start tomorrow?” 

Rey took a deep breath. “Yes. I can.” 

* * *

The wind off the water was chilly, but Clyde didn’t mind. 

Finding the note just inside his door had been a bit of a shock. He’d gotten used to the routine of eating with Rey before driving her where she wanted to go, never mind that the habit was only a few days old. 

He’d stopped at the motel’s dining room on the way out, grabbing a couple of pastries and a cup of coffee, but he couldn’t help wondering if Rey had gotten any food for herself. _She’s still too thin - she can’t afford to skip meals._

But there was nothing he could do about it just then. _S’pose I could text her; sure. And sound like the worst kind of interferin’ busybody._

Clyde made a mental note, though, to make sure Rey got a _very_ large dinner, later. 

Seattle was a big place; he spent a while wandering before fetching up on the waterfront. It was full of tourists, but since he basically _was_ one, Clyde couldn’t complain; and it was true there was lots to see. 

He ended up on Pier 57, leaning on the railing and looking out over the water. It wasn’t exactly the ocean, but the expanse of water was impressive all the same to someone who’d grown up landlocked. He liked the sound of it, the little waves lapping at the piles; the way the sunlight glittered back from the ever-moving surface drew his eye and held it. 

Clyde had to admit to feeling a little better than he had the day before. Maybe it was the exercise, or the fresh air. 

_Bullshit._

He hadn’t _meant_ to spill all that to Rey. It wasn’t her problem; and yet, it only seemed fair to answer her gentle question - she’d seen him at nearly his worst, after all. By now he knew better than to think she would pull away, but he sure hadn’t been expecting what she _did_ do. 

_I guess it could be that easy. Just…don’t go home yet._

Such a simple solution. He could find someplace anonymous, another city maybe, close enough to home that he could visit - because he’d have to, no doubt about that. There would be no staying away after this stunt. 

But - Lexington maybe. Richmond. Pittsburgh even. Someplace far enough that he wouldn’t run into anyone he knew from home. 

_Find a shrink, get my head on straight._ If he couldn’t find someone through the VA, he could at least afford to do it out of pocket. 

Clyde knew it would be hard, really hard. Particularly if he had to do it without Mellie and Jimmy there. But what he’d told Rey was true; the idea of going home like this, _damaged_ \- it turned his stomach. All those pitying glances, the whispers - all the old familiarities, opening the way for his demons to rise up again. _Safer not to._

A family went by, two women, two young children. The older one, six maybe, stared at Clyde’s prosthesis as they passed, and then tugged at one of his mothers’ hands, obviously asking about it. The mother glanced back, then blushed, pulling her child along a little faster. 

Clyde didn’t mind kids staring; it was only natural, they were curious. He didn’t even mind the double-takes of adults, most of the time - that was usually reflex, seeing something odd out of the corner of the eye and looking again to identify it. 

He _did_ mind the revolted looks, the winces, the nervous joking. The occasional creepy fascination, or the occasional mockery. Even some folks’ way of ostentatiously ignoring his missing hand could be irritating. 

He could still remember Jimmy and Mellie tiptoeing around his injury when he’d first got home, though to be fair he’d been in no shape for regular treatment anyway. Even his momma had wept when she’d seen him for the first time, arm still bandaged up. 

Rey had done the double-take, but after that it was like she didn’t even notice. And she wasn’t pretending, either, the way some people did, all stiff and obvious. It was like she just took Clyde in as he was. No hesitation. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about the night before, when she’d sat down next to him and put her hand on his prosthesis like it didn’t even matter, like he still had living flesh there. The memory pierced him, sharp and sweet; he couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched him in comfort, except for family. 

It was no wonder, really, that he worried about her. 

When the sun disappeared behind clouds, Clyde sighed and left the water behind, idly exploring a few shops and collecting a handful of little presents for people back home - mostly Sadie. Having a niece was a good excuse to pick up nifty toys that a grown man had no business playing with, and fortunately she was interested in all kinds of things. 

Clyde couldn’t help wondering if Jimmy was ever going to give her a baby sister or brother; he and Sylvia had been dating for over a year now, and Clyde was pretty sure Jimmy was edging up on proposing at some point, though the man was still kind of skittish about marriage after his last fiasco. 

Clyde liked Sylvia. She was smart and sensible, and more than that, she was kind. Clyde was sure Jimmy hadn’t revealed their cauliflower secret to her, but he was also pretty sure she’d guessed at least part of it. Jimmy could do a lot worse. 

Clyde didn’t know how he felt about kids of his own, but he thought he wouldn’t mind having another niece or nephew running around, as long as they weren’t anything like Sadie’s stepbrothers. He missed seeing her more often…but he didn’t miss _them_. 

_Maybe I could go to Lynchburg for a while. It’d be closer to Jimmy._ And Bobbie Jo, but Clyde didn’t really care what she thought. He didn’t blame her for divorcing Jimmy - they shouldn’t ever have gotten married in the first place - but he didn’t much like her, never had. Nor she him, for that matter. 

_Mm, maybe that’s not such a good idea._ If she got word that Clyde was seeing a shrink, she might use it as an excuse to cut back on Jimmy’s time with Sadie. He didn’t _think_ she would, but - _Best not to take the chance._

Well, he’d still see Sadie at Christmas. It was Jimmy’s turn to have her, this year. 

_Where’ll Rey have Christmas?_

Clyde frowned as he headed back towards the motel. _You don’t even know if she does Christmas,_ he told himself - certainly not everybody did - then wondered if she’d ever even had the choice. 

Of course it was Mellie who appeared in his mind’s eye. _Well then, you can just ask her_ , his sister told him bluntly. _Invite her for it. It’s not like you can’t afford the plane tickets._

That was true; and, Clyde thought with an odd lift to his heart, if they were still talking by December and Rey _wouldn’t_ come…why then, he might just buy his own tickets. He’d hate to miss Sadie, but - 

_I wonder if it snows here ‘round then._

Humming thoughtfully, Clyde walked a little faster. 

* * *

It was raining again when Clyde pulled into the gas station lot that Rey had texted him from - not hard, but a steady fall. Rey dashed out from under the little bit of roof that overhung the tiny convenience store attached to the station, and Clyde leaned over to open the door for her. 

She slid into the seat, damp and grinning, and before she even spoke Clyde knew what she was going to say. “I got a job!” 

“That’s _great.”_ His face almost hurt, it had been so long since he’d had occasion to smile so wide. “That’s amazin’!” 

“It _is._ ” Rey blew out a breath, throwing herself back against the seatback in exaggerated collapse. “I mean, it’s under the table, totally illegal, but it’s an auto shop, and the bosses are super nice - “ 

“Bosses?” 

“Yeah, they’re sisters. Anyway, they’re going to give me a week’s trial, but I don’t think it’ll be a problem.” 

She was absolutely sparkling with joy, and Clyde had to force his eyes to stay on the road. “What’s the place like?” 

“It looks good, very organized, and the reviews are mostly good.” Rey undid her ponytail and scraped errant strands back before redoing the elastic, and tilted her head back. Clyde snuck a glance her way, and saw utter relief in her closed eyes and the set of her jaw. 

“Well, we oughta celebrate,” he said firmly. “Go someplace nice for dinner.” 

Rey shifted in her seat. “You sound like Mellie,” she said, sounding amused, but shook her head. “I…I’d rather not.” 

Clyde blinked, puzzled. “No? It’s worth celebratin’. Mellie said you two went out back in San Jose.” 

“Yes, b-but - “ He heard her sigh. “I’d just rather not, okay?” 

He wasn’t going to go against a lady’s wishes, even if he didn’t understand them. “Sure.” 

“Thanks.” 

When he glanced over again she was hunched in her seat, as if bracing for something, and Clyde took advantage of their slow speed to reach over and pat her arm, a brief touch. “You all right?” 

Rey made an indecipherable sound, not quite a laugh. “I’m good. It’s a relief, you know?” 

“Mm.” He supposed he didn’t, really; Clyde had never been in so precarious a position, not like that. But he could sympathize. And she’d uncurled again. 

“Tell you what,” he began. “If’n you don’t wanna go out, how about we go to the motel and I order up something real nice? You like seafood?” 

“I’ll eat anything,” Rey said. Clyde rolled his eyes. 

“Not what I asked.” 

She sighed. “I don’t know, really. The only stuff I’ve tried was in that Thai food we had.” 

“Huh. Least you’re not allergic.” Clyde concentrated on traffic for a minute or so. “When I was a kid our daddy would take us up to Maryland on occasion for blue crab, fresh as could be. Haven’t done that in years, though.” 

Rey pulled her legs up, twisting a little in the seat to look at him. “Why not?” 

He had to think about that for a moment. They’d gone a few times after Daddy died, but after Jimmy got married, Bobbie Jo had turned up squeamish; though, granted, pulling steamed crabs apart to eat them on the spot wasn’t for everybody. Somehow they’d just never got round to it again. 

“Dunno,” he said finally. “Got out of the habit, I guess.” 

Maybe that was part of it, his own stagnation, how he’d scarcely stirred from their home town since coming back from overseas. Jimmy being cash-poor hadn’t helped either, but still. 

“Is it nice, where you grew up?” Rey asked. “I looked up West Virginia online but it was mostly pictures of trees. And a river.” 

Clyde had to grin a little. “Yup. Well, no rivers, not where I live, but trees, yeah. And hills, lots of hills.” 

It was what was, as far as he was concerned, but he could see how it would look alien to someone who’d grown up where Rey had. “Looks real nice in the fall when the leaves turn.” 

“Does it snow there?” She sounded wistful. “I’ve never seen snow.” 

“Sometimes. Not a lot where we are, but enough for a decent snowman.” How strange to think she’d never done that, nor tossed a snowball at someone’s head. Clyde had the feeling she’d be a dead shot. “You’d - hmm.” 

He’d almost said _you’d like it._ He was pretty sure she would, anyway, but it seemed like presumption to just declare it like that. 

_Pity you can’t take her with you._ But that was too much, asking someone so full of smarts and potential to bury herself in a little town in a state so far away, where opportunity was thin on the ground. No, Seattle was a better place for her - and anyway she’d found something already, he couldn’t ask her to give that up. _Who knows, if she can find something steady maybe she can even go back to school -_

And he was trying to be good with it. Clyde was happy for her, of _course_ he was. She’d found something good, something that fit her skills, with people who sounded decent. It was what this whole thing had been about, finding her a place to settle and grow. 

The hollow space widening in his chest - well, he’d just have to live with that. It would fade, he told himself, when he saw his family again. 

But it was an effort, suddenly, to keep being happy for her. 

* * *

She was too restless to read. Rey lay back on the bed in her motel room, arms spread and feet twitching, and looked up at the ceiling, still trying to process the day. 

_It’s not going to be enough. But it’s a start._ A _good_ start, better than she’d hoped for. It let her next step be finding someplace to stay. 

That was going to be tricky, she knew. Rey had spent the afternoon at a library, using its wi-fi. She’d already looked up a handful of homeless shelters, but every one she’d contacted had a waiting list. 

_That thousand from West…that could be rent._ _If_ she could find something safe enough, cheap enough. The rent on apartments she’d found online had appalled Rey; but it wasn’t like she had much choice. _Maybe I could find someone to share with._

If she had to spend a few days sleeping rough, she could do it; the rain was annoying but it wasn’t cold enough to kill her. _Assuming I don’t get tailed by another cop._

Her stomach growled, and Rey sighed and rolled over. West had asked her firmly to wait while he got dinner, but it had been at least an hour and lunch had been a _long_ time ago. 

She kind of wished she’d agreed to go out, but the truth was she didn’t want to explain that she had no clothes suitable for a fancy restaurant. What Mellie had noticed right off seemed to have escaped West entirely, which was funny since he’d seen Rey wear the same three shirts all week. 

Still, it had been kind of him to offer. _I’m really going to miss him._

It was almost a panicky feeling, knowing that their odd companionship was coming to an end. Rey choosing Seattle meant Clyde was free to go home, or wherever he was going for treatment; she wasn’t going to keep him back any longer, and for that Rey was glad. 

But she would be alone again, more alone than ever, and in a strange city. Part of her wanted to ask him to stay, just a little while longer, until, until - 

_Until what?_ Rey asked herself sternly. _Until he runs out of money? He’s hurt, he needs to see someone about what’s going on in his head. Every day he stays with you is a day longer before he can get better._

She couldn’t impose on him like that - 

The rap on her door broke Rey from her thoughts, and she shoved upright to go and answer it, peering through the peephole first. It was Clyde, of course, and when Rey opened the door he looked more excited than she’d seen him yet, eyes lit and mustache twitching. 

“Hope you’re hungry,” he said, and Rey couldn’t help her smile. 

“I’m always hungry.” She slipped out past him at his gesture, and walked the few yards to his door. Clyde slid the card into the reader and then, unusually, opened the door to step through it instead of extending one long arm to push it open for her. He pivoted to hold it out of her way, and Rey passed through - and blinked, mouth dropping open. 

The little room, a clone of her own, was lit with flickering light; the narrow desk had been pulled away from the wall, and was covered - absolutely _covered_ \- with food containers. Scattered somewhat randomly around the room were tiny LED tealights, and there was a single Mylar balloon bobbing against its ribbon tie, blaring _Congratulations!_ In a colorful font. 

Rey slapped a hand over her mouth to block the yip. Clyde was watching her, full-on _grinning_ , and when she didn’t move he shifted to hold the door with his foot and reached out, prosthesis sliding carefully behind her shoulder to pull her in. “C’mon in, nothin’s gonna bite you.” 

Rey almost stumbled as she entered, her attention absorbed by the little celebration Clyde had assembled. She felt stunned; her heart was rabbiting, and a squeak of _for me? for **me**?? _was running on a loop through her brain, as if there had to be an error somewhere. 

But there was Clyde, still nudging her forward so he could close the door behind her, and there was all the _food_ , the smells mingling deliciously, and there was the desk chair pulled out in invitation. Rey swung around to look at him, and though he was still smiling she saw a spark of worry in his eyes, as if he were afraid she didn’t like it. 

Rey dropped her hand. Her lips moved over his name, but she couldn’t push the sound out of her throat; so she took one step forward and threw her arms around him. 

This time he returned the embrace at once, folding her in like the wrap of a warm blanket on a chilly night. Rey pressed her face against his shoulder, letting the cotton absorb the trickle of moisture that escaped her eyes. 

She could feel the hard band of his prosthesis against her back, though the pressure was light; his hand rested between her shoulder blades, a pleasant weight. And there was the slightest tug where his head brushed her hair, as if something had snagged the strands, but Rey was too overwhelmed to analyze the sensation. 

She still couldn’t make her voice work, but after a long, sweet moment Clyde’s voice murmured, half vibration under her ear, half amused fondness. “Come on, I thought you was hungry.” 

Rey managed a choke of a laugh and let him go, stepping back and swiping a palm across her eyes. It should have been awkward, but Clyde cupped his hand around her shoulder, turning her gently to face the feast and urging her forward. Rey sat down heavily, head still swimming with emotion and a surge of ravenousness, and she looked up at Clyde as he moved past the desk to sit opposite, on the edge of the bed. “You got all this for me?” she finally managed. 

He shrugged, cheeks a little pink. “You deserve a little celebratin’. Got a bunch of stuff to try, that one’s soup and there’s coconut shrimp too, and scallops.” He pointed. “Go ahead and pick something out. There’s chicken and things if you don’t like t’other stuff.” 

It was all delicious, every bit. Rey sampled everything, from the fish in lemony sauce to the funny long crab legs that they had to break open, and there was so much of it that even she couldn’t eat it all. Clyde put a sizable dent in the selections himself, but he refused to take anything until Rey tried it. Her eyes kept blurring as she ate, when the tealights would catch her gaze or Clyde would push another container towards her; when she asked him about the dishes, he rather sheepishly admitted that he’d never had most of them either. 

“West Virginia ain’t known for its seafood,” he said, twirling pasta onto his fork. “Trout, sure, catfish - they’re good eating but it ain’t the same.” 

“Mm.” Rey licked melted butter from her fingers without shame - she’d already used up a pile of paper napkins. “Did you ever go fishing?” 

Clyde chuckled. “When I was a kid, sure. Daddy would take me and Jimmy out sometimes, before Mellie was born.” 

He took a bite, swallowed. “Jimmy kept it up for a while, but it kinda takes two hands, and anyway for me it was more about spending time with them.” 

He sounded more reminiscent than sad. Rey wondered what it had been like, growing up with parents - parents who, from what she could tell, had loved their children; but it was an old thought, worn with much repetition. “Didn’t your mom like fishing?” 

Clyde blinked. “Don’t know as it ever came up. No, I think she was kinda glad to get the house to herself for a day. She always made us clean the catch anyway.” 

Rey could only imagine it out of focus, but still the image was there, a gangly young Clyde and a vague older brother crouched over a heap of fish, somewhere with lots of trees. “What was she like, your mom?” 

Clyde pursed his lips, clearly thinking. “She was good,” he said finally. “Solid good, dependable. When she said somethin’, you knew it was true.” 

He expression was thoughtful, rather than sad. “Daddy mined coal - s’what most people did - an’ Momma ran the house. We had our skinny times, but it was always _safe._ ” 

It was so alien, what he was saying. Rey had seen glimpses of families through her peers, growing up, and she’d had Maz looking after her like a mother for a while, but she couldn’t picture _safe_. All she could remember now was curling up in her cot in the little apartment above Maz’s bar, listening to the people drinking below and knowing she’d be asleep before Maz closed the doors and came upstairs. And even though Maz never failed her, Rey had never been able to shake the fear of _what if this time she doesn’t come back_. 

“Do you remember your parents?” Clyde asked softly, and Rey looked up. His smile was gone, and again he looked hesitant; but the wound was so old that it only ached now and then. Rey shrugged. 

“Not really. I mean, I have a couple of - of impressions, but I don’t know if they’re memories or just me imagining things.” The smell of a hot car, the rumble of a voice; a face looking back at her over a seat, the expression worn away by time. None of it added up to anything. “The first real memory I have is Maz taking me to kindergarten the first day.” 

“Who was she?” Clyde had set his plate aside and was regarding her steadily, as if anything she said might be important. It felt strange. 

“She - I don’t know her history, really. She always looked old to me, but I don’t have any idea what her actual age was. She was about the only person in town who would stand up to Plutt, but even she could only go so far.” Rey had assumed as a child that Maz owned the bar that bore her name, but later she’d guessed that Plutt did, or had some kind of control over it. “She took me in, gave me a home. I don’t think I would have survived without her.” 

Somewhere in her pack Rey had a scrap of old newsprint, Maz’s obituary from the _Eunice Today_ paper - just a black-and-white reprint of a photo, but the only image she had to remember Maz’s face. 

“‘M glad she was there,” Clyde said, hardly audible. Rey nodded, looking back down at her own plate. 

“She was…she was the only light sometimes, you know?” 

She wasn’t _sad_. Not really. She’d finished mourning for Maz a long time ago. But Clyde’s wide hand settling over hers was still a comfort, an acknowledgment that she had the right to grieve. Rey curled her fingers around his, and part of her wished that the moment would not end; that she could be safe and fed and not alone for always. 

He squeezed gently. “Got some cheesecake too, you got any room left?” 

Rey laughed. “Always.” 

The cake was as delicious as everything else, and Rey managed two slices, though she couldn’t remember ever eating so much before. “What’s this job like?” Clyde asked as he chased the last bite of his own. 

“Fixing cars,” Rey said, thinking back to Paige’s tour of the shop and rundown of their usual clientele. “Engine and wheel work, they don’t do major body work there, which is just as well because the most I’ve ever done is replace a door.” 

She sucked the last bit of cake off her fork. “It’s only part time, but they want me to start tomorrow.” 

Clyde’s brows went up. “That’s pretty good.” 

“Yep.” Rey set her plate aside with a sigh. “I’ll have to find another job too, but this - this is amazing.” And it _was,_ but - 

She couldn’t quite bring herself to say it - _I’m done, I’m staying, you can go._ But judging from the way Clyde had sobered, it was on his mind too. 

He glanced away, then frowned and turned back to her. “Where’re you gonna live?” 

“I’m still working on that.” Rey turned up one hand. “There’s shelters…” 

The sound Clyde made was something like a growl. “That’s not enough.” 

It warmed her; but Rey lifted her chin. “West, I knew this was coming. It’s summer, I can stay out for a few nights. I _planned_ for this.” 

“What if - “ he started, then clamped his mouth shut. His glare was fulsome, but somehow it didn’t chill her. He wasn’t angry at _her_. 

“I’ll be okay. It won’t be the first time I’ve slept rough,” she said, trying to reassure him, but his frown only deepened. 

“That don’t make it better.” Clyde blew out a sharp breath and pushed to his feet, reaching out for one of the cartons. 

“I know. But it’s what I’ve got.” Rey started sorting through the mess on the desk, piling the empty containers for disposal. 

He grumbled something inaudible, but made no more objections. Rey stole a last few nibbles as they condensed the leftovers; Clyde gathered the half-full cartons and stacked them in the little fridge in the corner, while Rey stuffed the trash into the bags the food had come in. He was still frowning. “What time do you gotta be there?” 

“Eight, so they can show me the routine before they open.” Rey was looking forward to using the tools she’d seen, clean and well-maintained rather than an outdated, hodgepodge collection. She’d have to get up with the sun to get there in time, but - 

“How about I drive you? We c’n get breakfast on the way.” 

_And say goodbye._

Well, she knew it was coming. Rey bit her lip. “That sounds nice.” 

Clyde’s head jerked in a nod. Moving stiffly, he untied the balloon from where it was moored on the handle of the nightstand drawer, and held it out to her. 

Rey took the ribbon, feeling it tug lightly against her grip, and smiled, though her face felt equally stiff. “This is my first balloon. That I can remember, anyway.” 

“Past time then.” Clyde picked up one of the tealights, then set it back down aimlessly. 

“Thank you,” Rey added. “For - for all of this.” The words felt woefully inadequate. “I never…” 

His ears were turning pink. “Past time,” he repeated, and Rey wanted to hug him again. But he looked desperately uncomfortable, so she just held out a hand. 

Clyde took it in his; his thumb was so large it all but spanned the width of her palm. “You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met,” she told him softly. “I’m going to miss you, Clyde.” 

He was pink all over, now. “Me too,” he mumbled. “I mean - “ 

Rey nodded, and squeezed his hand. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clyde is not quite correct regarding fishing with a disability like his, but he probably didn't care enough about the pastime to do any research. A quick search shows various offerings for adaptive devices, including [here](http://www.adaptiveoutdoorsman.com/handicapfishing.html) and [here](https://www.fishingabilities.info/).


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. It's a nice fat chapter though. **Please note:** Rey's emails and letters in this chapter start out rather stiff and childish. This is because, as she points out, she's never done it before - no practice! She'll improve as she goes. 
> 
> Many thanks to [Cincoflex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cincoflex) for the camper suggestion!

It was still dark when Rey stepped out of the motel. Clyde had texted her to say he would be down in a few minutes, and so she waited under the cover of the extended roof, hitching her pack a little higher on her shoulder and yanking at the shortened ribbon of her balloon to make it dance. She felt a little silly, a grown woman playing with a child’s toy, but the novelty of it made her heavy mood just a little lighter. 

There should have been a gleam in the sky heralding the rising sun, but it was overcast; the night lingered, rendering everything a little unreal. Rey was stiff and achy with a too-early waking, but coffee and breakfast would fix that. 

She wasn’t sure what would fix the lump in her throat, though. 

_He’s leaving._

Neither of them had said as much, but Rey knew it was true. She’d fallen into a heavy, sated sleep on returning to her room, but dreams had plagued her all night, absurd chaotic scenarios that bore little relation to reality but kept the same underlying feeling of anxiety…of loss. 

_It’s like when Maz died. Night after night of being alone._

Those dreams had thinned out eventually, and Rey knew these would too; after all, this was just a goodbye, not a death. And she was an adult, not a bereft ten-year-old. She took a deep breath and focused on the day to come - the first day of her week’s trial at the garage, her shining, lucky chance. 

Rey was just starting to worry when Clyde came out, moving quickly but carrying only his money satchel. Rey fell into step next to him. “Where’s your bag?” 

“I’m comin’ back after breakfast,” he said, not looking at her. “Got something I need to do.” 

His car wasn’t far away. Rey put her pack and the balloon into the trunk and wondered uneasily if it would look weird to take it to work with her. _But I want to keep it -_

Under cover of the open trunk lid she pulled out the bag she’d put at the top of her pack, tucking it next to the ancient tire-changing kit so it wouldn’t slide around. _There. He’ll spot it sooner or later._

It wasn’t much, that package, but it was about all Rey had to give, and she wanted something more than words to thank West for what he’d done for her. It would have to do. 

Clyde was silent on the short drive to the nearest Waffle World. Occasionally Rey heard him draw in breath as if he were about to speak, but he never did; and she didn’t either. 

The restaurant was bright and cheery, in contrast to the strengthening grey dawn, and there were few diners at that hour; most of them were hunched blearily over their plates. Rey and Clyde slid into the booth the host led them to, but Rey didn’t bother opening her menu, and Clyde didn’t even pick his up. 

“You’re leaving today,” Rey said softly when he didn’t speak, and he looked up. His eyes were wide and sad. 

“Have to,” he said. “Mellie and Jimmy - they’re expectin’ me.” 

“Of course.” Rey gave him a small smile, the best she could manage but still sincere. “They’ll come looking for you if you don’t, or at least Mellie will.” 

Clyde huffed, half amusement and half familiar exasperation. “Ain’t that the truth.” 

The server came over for their orders, bringing coffee; Rey didn’t have to look at the menu to know what she wanted any more. Clyde only ordered toast, though, and Rey frowned at him, a little worried. “Are you okay?” 

He shrugged. “Not too hungry after last night.” 

Rey had to admit her own stomach wasn’t as empty as usual either, but hunger was far too familiar for her to skip a meal when it was available, and anyway she probably wasn’t going to have much of a lunch - or a supper either. _That thousand won’t last long. Better not spend it all at once._

Neither of them spoke before their food arrived. It wasn’t that they didn’t know what to say, Rey thought sadly; it was just that there really wasn’t anything _to_ say. Clyde was going home, and Rey was going forward, and that was all there was to it. 

_You’ve been left behind often enough,_ Rey thought. _You should be used to it by now._ Her parents, her school friends, even Maz - they had all disappeared from her life, voluntarily or not. Clyde was just the latest. 

She was just cutting into her fruit-bedecked waffle when Clyde finally broke his silence. “Will - will you call me sometime? Just so’s I know you’re okay.” 

Rey, surprised, looked up in time to catch his ears turning red. “Of course,” she repeated, almost by rote, and then the idea caught up with her. “Yes! Please.” 

Her smile was wider this time. “I need to know if you get home safely,” she added. Rey _wanted_ that, to keep even a small connection, to be sure he was okay on the long trip, all alone with his thoughts. 

Clyde’s lips turned up, and he leaned back, relaxing a little. “Okay. That’s good,” he said, still a little flushed, and Rey scrunched up her nose and pushed the dish of butter pats towards him. 

Rey worked her way through her waffle and sausage, watching idly as Clyde buttered his toast in a leisurely fashion and then ate only the insides, leaving the crusts behind. When he’d finished, he dusted the crumbs off his mustache with a napkin and looked up, serious again. “You need someplace to stay. It ain’t safe for you to be out all night.” 

Rey put down her fork. His concern made her feel warm, but at the same time it was a little annoying. _We already talked about this._ “Yeah, well, I don’t have much choice.” 

Clyde dug into his jeans pocket and pulled out a keycard, holding it out across the table. “The room you was in, I booked it for a week more.” 

_…What?_

Rey stared at the card. “I…you…West, you _can’t._ ” 

“Already did.” He put the card down and pushed it a little closer. “Not going to make me waste the money, are you?” 

Now he was teasing her, but Rey couldn’t laugh. It was too much, _way_ too much, on top of everything else - 

“Rey.” The low word made her look up. “Lemme do this for you. So I know you’re safe.” 

His gaze caught her, not letting her look away. And maybe it was the intensity of his stare, or maybe the shy hidden part of her that reached toward any scrap of caring, but either way her protest withered in her mouth. 

She couldn’t quite bring herself to say _okay_. But Rey reached out and took the card, and Clyde blew out a breath - relief, by the way his shoulders sagged. “Thank you.” 

It was hardly more than a mumble. Rey shoved the card into her pocket, unable to stop the pulse of relief at the thought of having someplace to go for a little while longer. 

* * *

The auto shop was still dark when Clyde pulled up in front of it. He shut off the engine, and silence filled the car like water, thick and muffling. 

It was so strange, Rey thought. In the span of a week she’d gone from spotting a vintage vehicle on the side of the road to knowing it almost by heart, inside and out. As for its driver…well, she knew the important things about him. He was kind, and sad, and smart, and in need of healing. 

_And a friend._

Clyde looked over at her, mouth pursed as if he were trying to keep something inside. “Wanna leave your stuff in the trunk? I c’n put it in the room, save you finding a place for it.” 

“That…that’d be great, thanks.” He was tapping the steering wheel with his prosthesis, a nervous tic, and something swelled in her. Rey snapped off her seatbelt. “West…will you get out of the car?” 

He squinted at her, then obeyed, climbing out as she did. Rey circled around the hood, and this time his arms opened first as she reached him. And if his grip was a little too tight, so was hers. She wasn’t going to complain. 

Her face was mashed against his shoulder, and his hand cradled the back of her head. Standing there, leaning into Clyde, Rey realized that this was the first time, in all those leavetakings, that she had the chance to say goodbye. 

She didn’t want to. She wanted to burrow into him and _stay_. But it wasn’t possible; so when his grip finally loosened Rey raised her head and stepped back. 

Clyde’s hand and prosthesis slid down her arms as if reluctant; and as she straightened he turned his head, and his lips pressed briefly against her cheek, a clumsy, tickling touch that sent a flood of warmth through her. “You call me, hear?” he murmured hoarsely. 

“ _You_ call _me,_ ” Rey shot back, grinning a little and blinking away a sudden blurring. 

His eyes crinkled. “Bet I will,” he said. 

And then there was no more reason to delay. Clyde swung himself back down into his seat; as he did a car pulled into the shop lot, and Rey recognized it as the sisters’ vehicle. She bit her lip, meeting Clyde’s eyes through the open window. 

“Drive safe,” she told him, throat closing on the words. 

He jerked a nod, opening his mouth, then closing it again. His fingers fumbled for the key, and Rey moved back as the engine woke. 

She watched him drive away again, this time at a safe speed; his taillights gleaming redly in the dull morning light until they flared, rounded a corner, and disappeared. 

Rey swallowed hard, several times. Drew in a long, chilly breath. 

And crossed the street to the shop. 

* * *

The first day was hard. Very hard. 

Clyde took to the highways this time. Part of it was because he wanted to get back to Jimmy and Mellie as soon as he could, but part of it was because highway driving took less attention than back roads. He could settle into a state where thoughts didn’t trouble him much, where the purr of the engine and the sameness of the road kept him from thinking about anything but the traffic around him and when he’d hit the next exit. 

It wasn’t healthy, he knew that, but Clyde figured that if he could just hold off on thinking for a few days, it wouldn’t hurt so much; and if not, he could dump it on the shrink when he found one. 

It shouldn’t bother him like this. He knew that too. He scarcely knew the woman; getting her stuck in his head wasn’t good for either of them. 

But she was. Stuck, that is. 

He’d packed up almost on autopilot, not that he’d taken much out of his bag to begin with; moving the remaining food and the little candle lights into Rey’s room hadn’t taken much more time. 

He’d trapped the balloon’s ribbon - oddly short - under his stack of books, leaving them on the room’s desk for her. After all, he’d read them already, and had copies of most of them at home; he sure didn’t need extras. 

If the memory of her face lit with excitement over her found book was behind the decision, well, no one was there to criticize. 

She didn’t call the first day; but when he checked his phone that night, in a motel somewhere in Idaho, there was a badly lit photo of a tiny restroom, with a mirror shot of Rey in a _Tico Auto Repair_ jumpsuit. Her smile was brighter than the sun. 

He didn’t spot the paper bag in his trunk until he was leaving the next morning. It was just an ordinary brown bag, salvaged from some meal or other, but the top had been folded carefully over and fastened shut with a length of ribbon, tied in a neat bow. Suddenly Clyde knew why the balloon’s tie had been so short. 

His throat constricted as he cut through the ribbon - too tight to untie - and reached into the bag. 

It was a book. Two children walked on what looked like lightning, high above a city; above them the cover read _So You Want to Be a Wizard_. A piece of paper stuck out from between the pages. 

_Dear West,_ it said in careful print. _I think you’ll like the story. I know most of it by heart now._

_Yours sincerely, Rey_

The words ran together, becoming almost indistinguishable. Clyde swiped his arm across his face, lest any moisture drop on the cover, and closed the trunk firmly. 

The book was placed gently on the passenger seat, note tucked back into it, and Clyde pulled out onto the highway, heading east. 

But not forever. 

* * *

**August**

To: adventureboy1992@yahoo.com

From: reyreyreyrey@gmail.com

Dear Clyde: 

Thank you for the call yesterday. I am glad you are safe. 

The job is very good so far. Rose and Paige are nice, and I have met two other employees who are friendly. Rose says she has a friend who is talking about moving and may want to share an apartment, and she will introduce me to him. 

I am also looking for a second job, even though I don’t know where I will be staying. I think one of the delis near the shop is hiring. 

I am sorry if this email is not very good. The only time I ever wrote a letter before was in second grade. The class had to write to the Easter Bunny, it was very stupid. 

Please drive safely. 

—Rey

*

To: reyreyreyrey@gmail.com

From: adventureboy1992@yahoo.com

Dear Rey: 

It’s not stupid. I’m happy to read anything you send. 

I’m glad the job is going well. Your bosses sound good. I hope the friend has a place available soon, but please be careful. Some folks can’t be trusted. 

I made it almost all the way through Montana today; there were a lot of trees and logging trucks, so it was a pretty drive but I had to stay alert. I’m nowhere near the park, though. I think I’m glad about that. 

Did you get the job at the deli? 

—Clyde

*

To: adventureboy1992@yahoo.com

From: reyreyreyrey@gmail.com

Dear Clyde: 

I looked at the map on my phone. It is hard to tell, but I think you should be almost to Chicago by now. Will you stop there and see the lake? 

I did not get the job at the deli. I am still looking. Yusuf is one of the other employees at the shop, and he says that there are jobs for delivering groceries or meals, but you need a car for that. I like him too, he is the one who told me to come back and talk to the bosses when I asked about a job. 

My balloon is still floating. 

—Rey 

*

To: reyreyreyrey@gmail.com

From: adventureboy1992@yahoo.com

Dear Rey: 

Yep, I stopped in Chicago, even though the traffic was ugly. I did see the lake, but I also wanted to see Wrigley Field, it’s a baseball stadium. I put in a photo for you. There’s a real tall building that lets people go up to the top to look out, but the line for tickets was way too long so I didn’t go. Maybe I’ll come back someday. 

I bought postcards. When you have an address I’ll send them to you. 

Is everything still okay at the shop? 

—Clyde

*

To: adventureboy1992@yahoo.com

From: reyreyreyrey@gmail.com

Dear Clyde: 

Thank you for the photo! Do you love baseball? 

Yes, everything is very good. The shop was going to try me out for a week, but Paige says that I am just what they were looking for, and they will keep me! They pay me every day. 

It has rained every day since you left. Today the sun came out, and I saw a rainbow. I never saw one before. I took a photo but it isn’t a very good one, but I put it in anyway. 

Thank you for leaving me the books! I finished Clockwork Boys and wanted to yell, since it isn’t the end of the story. So I started reading The Dubious Hills. It’s very strange, but I like it so far. 

Are you almost back to West Virginia? 

—Rey

*

To: reyreyreyrey@gmail.com

From: adventureboy1992@yahoo.com

Dear Rey: 

Yep, I got to Madison last night. Jimmy and Mellie came up to meet me since I’m not going back home just yet. I was real glad to see them, and Mellie said to tell you hi. She wants your address so she can email you, but I said I would have to ask you first. Do you want her to write to you? 

We’re staying here over the weekend, and then I’m going to Charlottesville in Virginia. It’s a decent-sized city and I think I can find a good doctor there. It’s kind of far from Mellie, but not so far from Jimmy; Mellie had a few things to say about that, but I knew she would. 

I like baseball okay. I played a little in high school but I wasn’t very good at it. Wrigley Field is kind of famous so I thought I might as well see it. 

Did you find somewhere to stay? I liked the photo. 

—Clyde

*

To: adventureboy1992@yahoo.com

From: reyreyreyrey@gmail.com

Dear Clyde: 

Yes. Please give my email to Mellie, I would love to hear from her! Tell her I said hello too. I am very glad you got there safely. Have you been to Charlottesville before? What is it like? 

I am on the waiting list at two shelters, and I am still waiting to talk with Rose’s friend. Please don’t worry about me. I will be fine. 

I did six oil changes in a row today. That is a record for me. I hope I do not break it any time soon. Don’t forget to get yours done. The window sticker on your car says it is due next month, but you have been doing a lot of driving. Sooner is better. 

—Rey

*

To: reyreyreyrey@gmail.com

From: adventureboy1992@yahoo.com

Dear Rey: 

I’m going to worry no matter what. Do you know how long the waiting lists are? 

I’ve been to Charlottesville a few times. It’s got a big university and a military school, and it has a lot of history; William Faulkner lived there, and so did Edgar Allan Poe. There’s a big old national park nearby too, so I might drive out that way if I get bored. 

I got my oil changed. Maybe I should have stayed until the garage opened so you could do it. 

I gave your email to Mellie and I bet she’s written you already. She and Jimmy left this morning and I am heading out right after I send this. Jimmy says hi too even though he’s never met you. I put in a photo of the two of them; ignore Jimmy’s ugly face, he hates having his picture taken and he always does that. 

Let me know if you find someplace to stay. 

—Clyde 

*

To: adventureboy1992@yahoo.com

From: reyreyreyrey@gmail.com

Dear Clyde: 

Your brother isn’t ugly! And Mellie is so pretty in that picture. Yes, she wrote me right away, it was nice to hear from her. 

Charlottesville sounds nice. I hope you find a good place to stay, and a good doctor really fast. 

I heard back from one of the shelters, they have a place opening up in a few days. It’s not permanent, but it will give me time to keep looking for somewhere to stay. They said that the YMCA has resources for homeless people so I will check that out. 

Does The Dubious Hills make sense to you? It is still confusing. 

—Rey

*

To: reyreyreyrey@gmail.com

From: adventureboy1992@yahoo.com

Dear Rey: 

That book is kind of a tough one. It helps if you read the Secret Country trilogy first, even though they aren’t about the same people. Maybe I shouldn’t have left that one for you, sorry. 

I got to Charlottesville today and got a room while I decide what to do next. I might try to find a job while I’m here. Bartenders can usually find work, though my missing hand might make a manager think twice about me. We’ll see. 

Will the shelter have room for you before the end of the week? I can book it for longer if you need it, just say the word. 

—Clyde 

*

To: adventureboy1992@yahoo.com

From: reyreyreyrey@gmail.com

Dear Clyde: 

It’s okay, it’s nice to have something to read, especially something I don’t already know. I found a library, but I can’t get a card without ID, so I just go in and read there for a little while. Not very long because I am still looking for another job, but I can’t help it, there are so many books! I will look for the Secret Country ones there. 

I am glad you got to Charlottesville safely. The managers should be happy to hire you! Especially since you own your own bar. 

There was another rainbow today, a double one, but the second one wouldn’t show up when I took a photo. I found a raincoat at a thrift store, so now I don’t get wet when it rains. I still like the rain, though. 

—Rey

*

To: reyreyreyrey@gmail.com

From: adventureboy1992@yahoo.com

Dear Rey: 

The Orphans of Raspay is part of a series too, but it’s less confusing. I don’t know if the library will have the others but you can ask the librarians. Most of them are happy to help people. 

I think I’ll find a doctor before I look around for a job. I called up my insurance but they’ll probably take a while to answer. In the meantime I can do some research. Mellie brought me my computer so I can look online. And I can keep up with the bar too. My friend Earl is keeping an eye on things but I still have to do the supply orders and stuff. 

Do you still need the room? Don’t think I didn’t notice you not answering. 

—Clyde 

*

To: adventureboy1992@yahoo.com

From: reyreyreyrey@gmail.com

Dear Clyde: 

I found another job! It’s stocking shelves at a grocery store. It doesn’t pay as much as the shop does, but I didn’t expect that. And the hours aren’t the same, so I have time to do both. 

I have someplace to stay, don’t worry. Thank you for offering! The shelter space is available tomorrow night, and Rose is trying to get her friend to come over while I am working. It’s hard, because he works too. 

I said to Paige that you wanted to send me postcards, and she said I could use the shop address if I wanted, until I find someplace permanent. So you can mail them there if you want, I will put the address below. 

How are you doing now that you are not driving all day? 

—Rey 

* * *

**September**

Dear Rey: 

Thanks for agreeing to let me write letters instead of emails. I’ve never been the best at texting and such; my fingers are too big for the phone. The post office box will do until I figure out where I’m staying long-term. 

I’m glad you liked the postcards. I wish I had picked up more of them, though to be honest I didn’t see much besides traffic most places. Someday maybe I can do that kind of travel again, slower so I can look at stuff. I never realized how big this country is before. 

Is the shelter working out okay? How long will they let you stay? I hope it’s not too far from where you work. 

I found a couple of doctors who work with veterans, so tomorrow I’m going to call and see if they have room for me. There’ll probably be a waiting list there too, but I’ve got time. I’ve been doing some walking since I’m idle, and visiting the library. It’s kind of tricky not borrowing too many books to carry back with me. Next time Mellie comes to visit I’ll ask her to bring a few old favorites with her. 

I’m putting in another postcard so you can see what the park looks like. 

Write back when you have time. I am always glad to hear from you. 

Yours sincerely - Clyde 

*

Dear Clyde: 

Thank you for the letter! It’s the first one I have ever gotten. I like this better too; typing on the little screen is hard. Everyone in school could text really fast, but I never learned since I didn’t have a phone then. 

I hope you get the chance to see the country again. I will never forget driving with you; even at night I saw so much more than I had ever seen before. 

I’ve moved into the shelter. It’s noisy, but clean and safe, so I am glad to be here. They have some resources for people who don’t have official ID, but there’s a waiting list for that too! I’m going to contact the school in Eunice and see if they can give me information. I do not think Plutt will hear about it, and if he does he won’t come up this far. He is a lazy asshole. 

The balloon finally deflated, but I folded it up and kept it. I want to remember my first one. 

Have you gone to any of the doctors yet? 

Please write again soon. 

Sincerely - Rey

*

Dear Rey: 

I’m glad you’re in the shelter, that’s very good news. How long will they let you stay? Did you meet with Rose’s friend yet? 

Plutt had better stay at home. You be careful, okay? Just in case. Talking to the school is a good idea, though. 

I have seen two different doctors for what they call “prelims”. I guess it’s a kind of way to find out if we suit each other. It makes sense but it’s annoying at the same time, if you get what I mean. 

Yesterday Jimmy drove up and we fooled around for a few hours. He’s working full-time so he couldn’t stay long, but it was nice to see him. Next week I’ll go see him and Sadie, he’ll have her then. She’s a good kid. He says hi, by the way. 

How are your jobs working out? Everything still good at the garage? 

Have you started Bone Dance? I plan to read the wizard book tomorrow. 

Yours sincerely - Clyde

*

Dear Clyde: 

The shelter says I can stay at least a month, maybe longer if the waiting list goes down, but some of the women there say it never does. I talk to them a little but most of them are very busy with their kids, and some of them don’t trust people. It’s okay though. I did help one lady with her paperwork for a little while since she didn’t speak English and the counselor was busy, but she had to leave the next day. 

Working at the garage is still great! I wish I could work there full time. The stocking job is just boring, but I don’t mind. It made my arms and shoulders hurt for a few days, but now I’m used to it. The manager lets the workers take some stuff home if it’s too damaged to sell, but most of the time I don’t because I don’t have anywhere to cook it yet. 

I met Rose’s friend, and he was very nice, but the apartment is too expensive for me. I will keep looking. Maybe I can share with someone from the shelter. 

I hope you have a good time with Jimmy, please tell him hi back. Will you send a photo of Sadie? 

I haven’t started Bone Dance yet. It’s hard to read at the shelter because it’s so noisy. Sometimes I go outside to read but it rains a lot and I don’t want to get the books wet. 

I won’t ask about your doctor’s appointments but if you want to talk about them I will listen. Or read. You know. I hope they go well. 

Did you like So You Want to Be a Wizard? There are more of them if you did. 

Sincerely - Rey

*

Dear Rey: 

I finished the wizard book. I see why you like it so much; the author did her research. I think I liked the car best. I don’t know if I want to read the rest of the series, but I will look up her other books and see what they’re like. 

That’s a good idea, finding a place with someone from the shelter. It sounds safer. But if your time at the shelter runs out before you find someplace, let me know, okay? I can fix up something to tide you over until you get a good place. 

I don’t mind talking about the doctor stuff with you, not really, but there isn’t much yet. I have to pick one and I’m thinking about just flipping a coin to get it over with. Part of me wants to get this done, and part of me wants to put it off. It’s stupid. 

Sure, I’ll take a picture of Sadie for you. She loves having her photo taken, she used to do kiddie pageants and that was a lot of photos and stuff. Right now she’s into comics. Did you ever read Calvin and Hobbes? I got her a few of those even though Jimmy says they’ll give her naughty ideas. She also loves something called Power Pack but I don’t know what that is. She’s drawing her own comics too. Jimmy says he never knows when she’ll take to something new. 

Write soon. I always like getting your letters. 

Yours sincerely - Clyde

*

Dear Clyde: 

Thank you for the photo! Sadie’s very cute. She looks happy. Jimmy is a good father, isn’t he? 

It is starting to get cooler here. Everything is so different. Yesterday I had some time off so I took the bus out to the piers and walked around for a little while. The Ferris wheel was amazing but the water kind of scared me, it was so dark and there was so much of it. But it was interesting too, and I liked looking at all the boats and the people. It was almost like a dream, all bright and strange. 

I used to imagine that kind of thing when I was little. They showed us pictures of other places in school, and sometimes I could read books in the school library or watch a little TV, but it all seemed very far away, like a story. But I always promised myself that I would get away and see everything as soon as I could. And now I have! 

I hope the doctor you pick is the right one for you. I suppose you could always quit and start over if you had to, but that sounds annoying. It’s not stupid to be conflicted. I think you’re very brave. 

Mellie says she’s coming to visit you next weekend. I hope you have fun with her! 

Sincerely - Rey

* * *

**October**

Dear Rey: 

Mellie and me did have fun, it was nice to see her too. She made me go shopping for clothes, though, which I do hate. I told her I could order stuff online but she said how would I know it would fit if I didn’t try it on first. It was easier to give up arguing. 

Jimmy is a good dad. He tries real hard, Sadie is almost his whole life even though she doesn’t live with him. Sometimes he messes up, but I guess everybody does sooner or later, and Sadie is happy, which is the important part. 

I’m glad you got a chance to see the water. I went out there too, and it sure is pretty. I think I know what you mean about it; it makes everything else look kind of small and breakable. I hope someday you can see more than just Seattle - it’s a big place but there’s other places too. 

I had my first “real” appointment with the doctor yesterday. I guess it went okay? But I’m not ready to talk about it. 

Did you find someplace to live yet? I don’t mean to pester you but it does worry me. Offer’s still open if you need it. 

Yours sincerely - Clyde

*

Dear Clyde: 

I got another job too! It’s at a car wash. The cars go through the machine, but then we wipe them down afterwards. Most of the other workers are guys so I kind of confused them. One of them pinched me, so I shoved my elbow in his face, and now they are all nice. Even the one who pinched me. Guys are weird. 

Thank you for the offer, I will keep it in mind. I am still at the shelter and still looking around. I did find a couple of places that I could afford, but they were too dirty or broken to live in. I can fix some things myself, but not that much. 

There aren’t many trees where I work, but a few of them are changing color. Every day I look to see how they’re different. It’s amazing, all the oranges and yellows coming out. Even when it’s cloudy, the trees glow. I think I understand now why people go on vacation to see leaves, it must be so beautiful when there’s a whole forest of them. 

I think Mellie’s right, but can’t you just find what fits and then order another one next time? 

I finished The Dubious Hills, but it doesn’t really finish, does it? I really want to find the other ones now. I haven’t started Bone Dance yet, I don’t have so much time now. 

Are the trees changing in Virginia? Are they pretty? 

Sincerely - Rey

*

Dear Rey: 

Yep, the trees here are pretty like that. Boone County’s a lot like here, with more trees than you can shake a stick at - they’re everywhere. They turn all colors in the fall, and then you have to rake up the leaves when they drop. When I was a kid Daddy used to burn them in big piles, but people don’t do that much anymore. I can still remember the smell, though, there was nothing else like it. It meant fall to me, just like apples do to some folks. 

You keep an eye on that creep at the car wash. If he won’t take the hint tell him you have someone who’ll come out and teach him his place if he don’t shape up. Because I will, just say the word. 

I had another session with Dr. Min - that’s what she calls it. She says she wants to see me once a week, which means I got a lot of time to kill in between, so I found a place to stay (new address is below). It comes with furniture and stuff, so I don’t have to buy any. It’s not too bad - it’s newer than the trailer I used to share with Jimmy. I guess the next thing to do is look for a job, so I don’t spend all my time in the library. Sounds awful nice though, doesn’t it? 

Jimmy came up again a few days ago. I can tell when he’s keeping an eye on me, but I guess it’s a big brother thing. I still feel bad for how I worried them, running off like that. I think if I hadn’t come back here Mellie at least would have come out to look after me. This way at least she can stay at home. 

You’re right about the clothes. I don’t know if I can convince Mellie, though. She just loves shopping. 

Yours sincerely - Clyde

*

Dear Clyde: 

Congratulations on finding a place! Send some pictures? So I can imagine you there. 

Fall just meant school starting again when I was little, but I liked it. I liked learning, and the school library, and getting to play at recess instead of working all the time. I was so mad when Plutt pulled me out of school. Paige said that maybe someday I can get my GED, though I won’t have time for that for a while. I like the idea, though. 

Don’t worry about the guy at the car wash, he’s very polite now. It was sweet of you to say you would take care of him, though! My hands keep getting chapped from the wet towels, but I got some lotion for them. I might get gloves if I can find them at the thrift store. 

Maybe you should apply for a job as a librarian! Or work in a bookstore. Though you might spend all your pay on books that way. 

Sorry this is short, I am tired and I want to mail it. 

Sincerely - Rey

*

Dear Rey: 

I’m glad you liked the photos, though the place isn’t very exciting. On the other hand, I’ve had enough excitement for the year, I think. 

Speaking of hands, my prosthesis busted and I had to find someplace that would fix it. The wiring got loose, I think. It should be done in a few days. I haven’t had it all that long, but I forget how useful it is. While I was looking for a repair shop I read up on some of the new stuff, and it’s really amazing what people are inventing these days. Not that I’m not happy with what I’ve got, but things have changed a lot since I lost my hand. 

I hope you get the chance to finish school someday, maybe even go to college. Mellie went to the local college but me and Jimmy never did. 

What’s the situation with the shelter? It’s been almost a month, hasn’t it? Are they going to kick you out if you don’t have something lined up? 

I don’t mind if your letters are short, just please keep sending them so I know you’re okay. Or call me. Please. 

Yours sincerely - Clyde

* * *

**November**

Dear Clyde: 

Something really nice happened! Last month a customer brought in an old teardrop trailer to get the axle fixed, but they never came back for it and Paige says that as far as they can tell the information the customer gave was fake. Apparently sometimes people will do that when they don’t want to dispose of a car or something properly. Normally Rose and Paige sell or get rid of stuff if it’s not claimed in thirty days, but Rose said that if I wanted to I could stay in it in the shop lot. She even said they would give me a key so I can use the restroom in the shop at night. 

It’s not in good shape, but the walls are sound, and I can fix it up some - once I clean it! Technically it’s not legal for me to stay there at night, of course, but I’m not a legal employee anyway and Paige says that if anyone asks I should say I’m security! She’s joking of course. I can put paper over the windows on the inside and that should keep any light from showing. I’m very excited! 

I’m so sorry your prosthesis broke, I hope it gets fixed quickly! What did you use before you got it? 

It’s getting chilly here, not like the desert at night; more wet, if that makes sense. I got gloves, which is good, because wet hands get very cold very fast. Some of the guys never wear them, they say they don’t get cold. I don’t know if it’s true or if they’re just being macho. 

I promise I will keep writing, as long as you do too. I like to know that you’re okay also. 

Sincerely - Rey

*

Dear Rey: 

That is some great news, really great! What’s the trailer got? Will it be warm enough for winter? Does it lock up properly? 

It’s getting on toward cold here too. Probably not as wet, but I know what you mean. The cold gets deeper, somehow. 

I got my prosthesis back and it works good as new. I didn’t have much before; they gave me a sort of hook contraption back when I first healed up, but I never could get it to fit right and it hurt, so I finally gave up on it. I used a fake hand the rest of the time until I got the fancy new one. Now it’s decor at the bar. It didn’t do anything, it was just there to hide my stump. 

Dr. Min has me talking about the Logan Curse now, at least when I talk at all - there’s a lot of silence going on in her sessions, but she don’t seem to mind any. It feels weird, laying it all out for a stranger, but she don’t scoff at it the way Jimmy does and that’s a comfort. 

Send me a picture of your new place? 

Yours sincerely - Clyde

*

Dear Clyde: 

I sent a picture of the outside, but I won’t send one of the inside until I get it in better shape. Right now it’s just a place to sleep, but that’s much better than sleeping rough, so I am happy to have it. It will be warm enough. The lock is pretty flimsy (I may fix that too) but the lot has a tall fence that’s locked at night, so it’s safe. 

I’m glad your prosthesis got fixed! I figure you can drive and stuff without it but it must still be inconvenient. 

How did the Logan Curse get broken? If you don’t mind saying. I hope you’re finding your balance again. 

People are putting up holiday decorations already, which is silly, but they are very pretty. Yusuf says it doesn’t snow much here but I’m hoping it does so I can see it. It snowed a couple of times in Eunice, years ago, but it was just a little bit and it didn’t stay. Does it snow a lot in West Virginia? 

Sorry for another short letter. 

Sincerely - Rey 

*

Dear Rey: 

You weren’t kidding about the camper needing fixing up. But I’m glad you have a safe place. Do you need anything for it? I’d be happy to help if you need it. 

It snows in West Virginia, sure, but different places get different amounts. At home we get it sometimes but it don’t usually last. It sticks more in the mountains. 

I can’t say exactly how the Curse got broke. I know it did because something good happened and nothing took it away. Maybe someday I can explain it, but not right now. 

I think balance is a long way off, but I don’t feel so lost any more. Talking with the doctor does help some. Don’t tell Jimmy I said that. 

Maybe this is a stupid question, but do you do Christmas? Like, is it a thing you believe in? 

I was hoping we could not do Thanksgiving this year, but Mellie won’t see it. But she has agreed that we can do it at Jimmy’s place in Lynchburg. Sadie will be with her mom this year, so it will just be the three of us. Seems a little silly to have it with just us, but you know Mellie. 

I liked your idea about the library, but turns out you got to have a degree to work in a library unless you’re a volunteer. I thought about the bookstores, but it’s getting crazy with the holidays coming up, so I started looking for bartending work instead. I didn’t turn up much, but one place called me back a couple days ago - their opening shift guy quit. So I guess I’m giving that a try. It’ll be nice to get back in practice, I guess. 

Take care of yourself, hear? 

Yours sincerely - Clyde

*

Dear Clyde: 

Thanks for the offer, but I’m good. Rose and Paige aren’t asking for rent just yet, so I used some of the money you gave me for a new mattress for the camper, and a coat. My bus pass takes up a lot of what I’m making so far, but I am saving a little. So long as I don’t get sick, I should be okay for a while. 

I have an appointment with someone to see about getting an official ID, but it’s not until January - the waiting list is really long. And I still need to write to my school. Or maybe I can call. I think I’m a little scared to ask, in case they say there is nothing. Sometimes I feel like I imagined the memories of my parents, except that Maz said she saw them, so I can’t have. 

How is the job going? Are you liking it? Is it busy there? Send another photo, please? Mellie showed me a few pictures of your bar at home. What’s the weirdest drink anybody ever asked for? 

It’s not a stupid question. Maz and I used to celebrate Christmas when I was a kid. We would decorate her tree, and go to church on Christmas Eve. For a while I kept the little nativity set she had, but eventually Plutt threw it out. My friend Luis invited me for Christmas dinner a couple of times, but he left for Austin as soon as he graduated. I hope he made it okay. 

Your Thanksgiving sounds nice, even if you don’t want to go! The shop is closed that day but I am scheduled to work at the grocery store because of all the last-minute shoppers. They’re paying extra for that shift, so it’s good. 

What did you do for Christmas when you were little? 

Sincerely - Rey

* * *

**December**

Dear Rey: 

Seems to me the school ought to have something, or else how could you get enrolled? I hope they write you back quick. 

The weirdest drink anyone ever asked for had a name I won’t repeat in front of a lady, and I didn’t have the ingredients for it anyway - Duck Tape is a working man’s bar, if you get what I mean. The weirdest one I ever made was a Mikey’s Breakfast Banger. That’s orange juice, amaretto liqueur, and club soda. It’s not half bad. 

The job is okay. It’s a little pub that mostly serves draft beer and whisky, not a lot of fancy stuff, so that’s better for me - I can do fancy, but I’m not lightning-fast like a big-city bartender. It’s kind of strange not being in charge of things, but it’s a lot easier, too. And I’m only working a few shifts a week. You know I don’t really need the money, but it’s keeping me busy, and Dr. Min says that’s a good thing, talking to people. Gives me less time to brood, I suppose. 

Christmas was special when I was little, I guess. We didn’t always have a lot of money, but Momma and Daddy always made sure we had at least a present or two, and a tree. We got stockings to hang up, and we would go to church on Christmas Day, Momma insisted. Mellie’s a lot like her that way. When I was a baby there was dinner at Grammy’s house, but I don’t really remember that, she died when I was six. I guess it was like what people say it should be, for kids. 

How’s it going with the repairs? It is real nice of your bosses to let you stay there. 

Yours sincerely - Clyde

*

Dear Clyde: 

Your Christmases sound really nice. I wonder sometimes if my parents celebrated it - for all I know they were Jewish, or Muslim, or just didn’t want to. I’m kind of looking forward to it this year. The only thing Plutt did for the holiday was close the garage - this year I get to choose what to do, since the shop and the car wash will be closed and the grocery store doesn’t have me on shift that day. I think I will get myself something from the bakery in the store - they have a sale rack - and take it back to the camper and eat it all. And I will put up all the little candle lights you left me. And then I’ll probably have a nap. 

Is your job still going okay? Maz used to say that most of a bartender’s job was just letting people talk, that half of them came to bars to blow off steam that way. I like imagining you in there, it looks nice with all the dark wood and the shiny bottles. Does it smell good? Maz’s always smelled like beer, but that can be a good smell. 

Can you give me Mellie’s address? I want to send her a present. I have one for you too, of course, but I already know yours. 

Sincerely - Rey

*

To: reyreyreyrey@gmail.com

From: adventureboy1992@yahoo.com

Rey - 

Would you want to come to Virginia for Christmas?

—Clyde


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am something of a sentimentalist about Christmas. I'll try to keep it from getting too sticky. 
> 
> Also, before you panic about the first section, read on. Clyde's a creative guy. ;)

Rey stared at her phone screen. For a long moment, she was unable to form a coherent thought.

_He wants me…to come for Christmas?_

Stunned delight crashed over her. Vague images spun through Rey’s head, that faraway state in winter colors, the lights of a Christmas tree, music and Mellie and most of all Clyde - to _see_ him again -

\- And then it burst like a bubble.

She couldn’t possibly spare that much time. Rey had Christmas off, but she was scheduled at the shop _and_ the grocery the day before, and the store the day after. And even if she could get out of that - and risk being fired - Rey knew she couldn’t fly without an official ID.

The realization stung sharply, but beneath it Rey’s heart swelled with a sweeter pain.

She was _wanted._

Her eyes watered, and Rey wiped them hastily, but a quick glance around told her that no one on the bus had noticed. She typed out a laborious reply, wishing she could send a letter but not wanting to make Clyde wait - _I would love to, but they won’t let me on a plane without ID. And I have to work._

_But thank you for asking me!_

She flipped her phone shut and tucked it away, wishing with all her heart that she _could_.

Normally Rey drowsed on the bus; she’d learned the particular sequence of turns and lurches that told her she was nearing her stops, and could wake in time to get off at the right one. But she couldn’t get the image out of her head. She could have seen Mellie, too, and maybe even met Jimmy and his daughter - the little family that was so important to Clyde.

She sighed, and leaned her head against the window until the vibrations of the engine made it too uncomfortable to continue.

When she reached the auto shop, it was closed for the night, but the Ticos had given her a key to the gate padlock as well as to the shop itself, and Rey slipped inside, carefully re-locking it behind her.

She did the same at the shop, using the little bathroom and detouring past the counter to see if there was any mail for her. On days when she wasn’t working at the shop, whichever sister accepted the mail would leave Clyde’s letters for her there. Rey wasn’t expecting one yet, but it never hurt to check - and in fact there was an envelope waiting, though when she scooped it up Rey saw it wasn’t from Clyde.

It was from Eunice.

Her breath caught. Rey waited until she was out of the building to open it - there wasn’t enough light to read it inside - and the harsh light of the streetlights made the printed text almost swim in her gaze.

 _Dear Rey,_ it read. _Of course I remember you! I looked up your records in the old files - they aren’t computerized that far back - but unfortunately there is no real information. Your last name is listed as Kanata, even though Miss Maz never had official guardianship, and the Social Security number is clearly a dummy._

_I don’t know who did your intake - that was years before I was hired - but my guess is that they didn’t want to turn you away. Or that they were unwilling to defy Miss Maz, for which I do not blame them._

_I’m sorry I can’t provide more information. I’m glad to know that you have found someplace to go, and I wish you all the best._

_Marisol Islas, Secretary, Eunice K-12_

Rey stared blankly at the page.

 _Well, fuck_.

She hadn’t let herself hope, exactly, but the news that there was _nothing_ still felt like a blow. _You’re no worse off,_ she told herself, but weariness seemed to rush over her, and even the bittersweet glow of Clyde’s invitation faded.

 _Nothing to do but wait until January, I guess._ She folded the letter back into the envelope and headed for the camper. Rey climbed slowly inside and closed the door, locking it carefully behind her with the deadbolt she’d installed herself. The little space was much improved from its original shambles, though it was bare of almost everything and needed a new coat of paint; but she was too exhausted to feel much more than a faint thrill of pride as she stripped off coat and shoes and sank onto the little bench seat. It was cold in the camper, but Rey flipped on the tiny space heater - bought with some of the money West had left her - and she knew it would warm quickly. The Tico sisters had allowed her to hook into the shop’s power, once Rey had verified that the camper’s wiring was still good, and while electricity was the only thing that worked yet, it was enough.

The trouble was that Rey rarely had time to work on repairs to the camper; between three jobs and the travel needed to reach them, she had little time to spare, and most of that was needed for resting or chores like laundry.

She sighed and rummaged in the nearest cabinet for the store-brand cereal she kept there, eating it straight from the bag; she had yet to get the little fridge to run, and anyway milk was expensive.

 _There’s still most of that thousand dollars,_ her hunger whispered, but Rey’s practical side knew better than to give in. She needed to hoard that money against the day when she got the flu, or broke her arm, or lost her job at the auto shop. She’d already spent more than she liked on necessities like the heater and a pair of sneakers - her own had deteriorated beyond repair, and nothing at the thrift store had been in her size.

_It’s just so hard to stay afloat._

Rey had anticipated the difficulty long before she’d fled Eunice. _You’re lucky,_ she told herself. _You’ve got a safe place to stay that you aren’t even paying rent for. And you’re **free**. _

As her hunger was quelled, Rey’s mood improved, and she folded the bag up and replaced it, fishing her water bottle from her pack and taking a drink. She still gloated a little when she looked around her new space - not so new after six weeks, but still a delight.

 _Sooner or later I’ll get the fridge to work, and I can get an electric kettle. Maybe even a microwave if the thrift store has one that’s cheap enough._ That store was her new best friend; she’d bought a set of tableware, a dishpan for washing in, a pack of socks without holes.

The little space was quickly reaching a cozy warmth. Rey grabbed a couple of milk jugs she’d scavenged and washed, and ducked back outside; she had permission to use the auto shop’s spigot, and it didn’t take long to fill them.

She poured one out into the dishpan and stripped down, washing quickly and shivering despite the space heater. _When I get that kettle I’ll have hot water for washing._

Her mattress was padded with blankets she’d found in a Dumpster, still in their plastic wrappings - a rare haul. Rey pulled on an old shirt and dove into bed, flicking off the light and the heater before burrowing into the softness.

It had been a strange, _strange_ four months for someone who’d rarely seen anything beyond the bounds of Eunice. Sometimes her former life seemed years away. And while Rey had made friends, and savored her freedom, survival was _hard._

 _But I’m going to make it._ _This is just the start._

Rey rolled over and shoved a hand out of the blankets. Between the mattress and the wall was wedged a thin bundle of paper that her fingertips could find even in the dark- Clyde’s letters.

They were the bright thread that held even her worst days together. Written on printer paper in ballpoint pen, they all had faint indentations on the top corners that had puzzled Rey until she’d realized they were where Clyde had kept the paper still with his prosthesis.

She wrote back on cheap notebook paper, scribbling on the wide lines like a fourth-grader; she’d gotten better at correspondence, but it still took some effort to say what she meant to.

Not that Rey _minded._ Writing back wasn’t just a way of holding a conversation, much as she enjoyed it; it was a reminder that she was more than the life she was leading, more than a small and unimportant cog in the underpinnings of Seattle’s vastness.

And it kept West close to her, alive in a way that a memory could not. Rey knew she could have said goodbye and gone on with her life; she would have been sad, but the loss would have been bearable. Instead - for the very first time - she had not been left behind. Not truly.

Yes, Clyde had gone home. But with every letter, every email, even the occasional phone call, he was still _there_. She was not abandoned.

Rey wasn’t sure why she kept them in such an odd location, except that she liked to reach out and touch them, even in the dark. She loved getting emails from Mellie, sure, but those weren’t real in the same way, stored on her phone. Letters were tangible; West had sat down and put his thoughts on the paper one word at a time, then folded it up, sealed it, and mailed it to her.

Rey had nothing from her parents but her name. The few mementos she’d had of Maz were gone, through random accident or Plutt’s malice; and Luis had never written at all. West’s letters were a reminder, a touchstone.

And more - they were proof that she was worth the effort. That his kindness wasn’t just a passing thing, a favor returned - it was a _connection_.

Rey had no illusions about the people she’d met in Seattle. She could quit her jobs and be replaced within a day, and forgotten within a week. Paige and Rose were friendly as well as kind, but she was first and foremost their employee; they might be sorry to lose her, but they could hire another mechanic almost at once, and a legal, certified one at that.

_Though maybe not one as good._

Rey didn’t let it bother her. She was grateful to the Ticos, but it was no burden, because she knew she did good work - in fact, she was worth more than they could pay her under the table. She was learning her new city bit by bit, even if most of what she saw was through a bus window.

Rey curled her fingers in between the mattress and the letters, and closed her eyes, savoring the fading glow of the invitation she couldn’t accept.

_I’m going to make it._

* * *

“Are you sure about this?” Jimmy’s brow furrowed as he watched Clyde click through Web pages on his laptop. “I know you want to see Rey again, and God knows she deserves a good holiday, but we ain’t never spent a Christmas apart since Momma died. It’s a _family_ day.”

Clyde gave his brother a patient glare. “And Rey ain’t got no _family_ at all, Jimmy. She ain’t even _had_ a Christmas since she was a little girl. I aim to fix that. You know I owe her.”

Jimmy sighed, a harassed sound, and Clyde’s mouth tightened. “You know how she plans to spend the first Christmas she’s free? Eatin’ stale cake all by herself and takin’ a _nap._ How is that right?”

Jimmy rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah, okay, but why can’t she come here then? I know Sadie would love to meet her.”

“No ID. Can’t fly without one.” And he was still kicking himself for missing that when he’d made the suggestion, but hell, he couldn’t think of everything. “And before you suggest I go pick her up, she can’t take that much time off.”

“I suppose not.” Jimmy’s eyes were dark and wistful, and Clyde ignored them studiously. He was _not_ going to give into his brother’s blandishments. He was genuinely sorry to miss spending the holiday with them, especially when it was Jimmy’s turn to have Sadie, but -

But this was more important. That was an uncomfortable thought, and Clyde pushed it down for the moment, studying plane tickets instead. “I’ll be back by New Year’s, we can all go see the fireworks like usual.”

“Mmm.” Jimmy came around Clyde’s kitchen table to peer over Clyde’s shoulder; the ad at the top of the hotel site was showing the Ferris wheel on the Seattle docks, and it seemed to catch Jimmy’s attention. “You know…”

Clyde felt his shoulders rising towards his ears. “What,” he said flatly.

“I bet they have fireworks out there too on New Year’s Eve. They’d look mighty pretty over the water, don’t you think?”

It was not a question that required a reply. Clyde swiveled around to stare at his brother. “What are you gettin’ at?”

Jimmy gave him the grin that _always_ meant trouble and backed away, reaching for the landline phone that sat on the kitchen counter. “Just a sec.”

Clyde considered trying to take it away from him, and decided that wasn’t how he wanted to spend his security deposit. Jimmy’s thumb flew over the keypad, and he lifted the receiver to his ear, obviously waiting for the other end to pick up. After long enough that it had to be going to voice mail, he cleared his throat. “Hey Mellie, call Clyde when you have a minute, will you? We got a proposition for you.”

He clicked the off button as Clyde narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What are you talking about?”

Jimmy’s look was amused. “Not a damned thing.”

He wandered out into the apartment’s little living room, collapsing onto the couch and scooping up the remote. Clyde shook his head and went back to looking at hotel sites; Jimmy in this mood was immovable.

It had become a bit of a routine, one of them going to visit the other every other weekend, with Mellie often driving over to Charlottesville on their off weeks. Clyde reflected wryly that he was actually seeing more of his siblings than he had when things were normal; but it wasn’t a bad thing. He might not admit it out loud, but just spending time with them, taking it easy, was helping him keep an even keel. None of them would _talk_ about it, of course; but they didn’t have to.

Clyde knew that families came in all shapes and sizes, not all of them good by any means. It just made him doubly grateful for his.

His phone buzzed, and he scooped it up, hardly having to glance at the display to see who it was. “Hey Mel.”

“What’s he got in his head this time?” Mellie sounded mildly exasperated, and Clyde rolled his eyes.

“Don’t ask me.” Jimmy was already lumbering back into the kitchen, and Clyde hit the speaker icon on his phone. “This had better not be another _cauliflower_.”

“I am hurt by your lack of faith in me.” Jimmy gave him a mock-wounded look and sat down at the table. “Mellie, how’d you like to spend Christmas in Seattle?”

Clyde sputtered. _“What?”_

“Oh, now, that sounds like a good time.” Mellie’s grin was all but visible. “I kind of got a taste for travel, might as well indulge it.”

“I’m thinking maybe a week or so,” Jimmy said. “Say, Christmas Eve through New Year’s?”

“Tickets won’t be cheap,” Mellie said thoughtfully.

Jimmy snorted. “Not like we can’t afford it.” He looked at Clyde, eyes bright. “Whatcha say, little brother?”

And part of Clyde was outraged at this sudden intrusion in his private business, this precious thing he had with the woman whose simple kindness had just about saved his life; but the rest of him was fastening onto the idea, of not having to leave them behind.

_Mellie likes Rey already, and it’s mutual; no reason Jimmy won’t like her too._

And didn’t Rey deserve as much celebration as they could give her?

He blew out a breath. “Why not.”

* * *

Rey contemplated the array of choices before her with the seriousness they deserved. Lined up on her camper’s little stovetop, they each offered temptation; the question was, which one would go first?

She reached out, hesitated, and then nodded decisively. _Cookies it is._

The blue lid yielded to her fingernails easily despite its dents, and Rey drew in a luxurious breath laden with the rich smell of sugar and butter. She selected one cookie almost at random and stuffed it whole into her mouth, unwilling to waste a crumb.

It was Christmas Eve, and she was _finally_ through with work. Rey had the next day and a half off, and while she was on the edge of exhaustion, she also had cookies, a can of pricey mixed nuts, and a box of chocolates - and cake for tomorrow. The cookies and the nuts had come from the grocery store, too banged up to sell; the chocolates were from the Tico sisters, who gave them out to all their employees every Christmas.

Rey knew she should hoard the treats, parcel them out carefully over time; that would be the sensible thing to do, saving calories for when she didn’t have enough. But some stubborn part of her wanted to _celebrate._ It was her first Christmas since Maz had died; Rey wanted to make it worthwhile. She was saving the tealights for Christmas Day, but the food was _right there._

She’d eaten the contents of one little paper sleeve and half of another, and was eyeing the nuts, when her phone rang. Puzzled, Rey reached for where she’d tossed it on her mattress. _If it’s the store wanting me to take that Christmas shift, I’m going to say no, extra pay or not._

But the number made her squeak in surprise. Rey fumbled to open the phone, almost dropping it in her haste. “Clyde, hello!”

“Hey, there.” His voice was wonderfully familiar. “How you doing?”

Rey laughed. “I’m good, how are you? Is everything okay?”

“Oh, fine, fine.” He cleared his throat. “Listen, I got a bit of a surprise for you. For the holiday an’ such.”

Rey blinked. “You do?”

“Yep. You’re at home, right?”

“Yeah?” Rey felt her brows going up in puzzlement.

“Go outside for a minute then, would you?” There was something odd in his voice, but Rey couldn’t pin it down.

“Outside?” Automatically she glanced at the window, but the paper she’d covered it with blocked her view.

“Yeah, just for a minute. Please?”

“Ooookay.” It was definitely a weird request. But it was Clyde asking; so Rey shrugged back into her coat, grabbed her keys, and opened the camper door, holding the phone to her ear. “What am I looking for?”

The door faced the back of the lot, so what she could see was a fence and then the back of the next building.

“Well, you’d better look around to find out, hadn’t you?” She had it now; he sounded _amused._

Baffled, slightly annoyed, slightly amused herself, Rey rolled her eyes. “All right then.”

It was just past sunset, so the sky was still light in the west, but twilight veiled the street. The streetlights were on, sharpening shadows in the lot but offering enough to see by. Rey saw nothing unusual as she stepped away from the camper, so she walked around it, wondering what on earth Clyde was talking about.

The lot was empty and swept clean, as usual; nothing was out of place. Rey frowned; and then something moved just outside the gate, and her mouth dropped open.

“Merry Christmas,” Clyde said in her ear, pleased and a bit sheepish. He lifted his prosthesis and pressed it against the gate. “Thought I’d stop by, since you couldn’t make it.”

Rey made an incomprehensible sound and bolted forward, scarcely remembering to snap her phone closed before she shoved it in her pocket. Clyde was grinning at her, that rare full grin, and Rey found herself laughing as she reached the gate.

It took only a few seconds to open the padlock and pull back the gate, and then Clyde’s arms were wrapping around her in the warm hug she’d somehow missed even though she’d only experienced it a few times. Rey hugged him back _hard_ , joy ratcheting up inside her until she felt as if she were going to burst.

Even through their coats, he was warm, and solid; and yet he almost felt like a dream, as if Rey had fallen asleep over her cookies and was dreaming the impossible. Her throat felt tight; it took an effort to force out the words, half-smeared into his shoulder. “You came for Christmas?”

His palm cupped the back of her head, and she could feel his voice vibrating under her hands. “Yep, and a bit more.”

It was another effort to loosen her grip enough to look at him. Clyde was still smiling, though with an edge of shyness. “I know you got to work, but if you like I can stick around through New Year’s.”

Rey laughed; it was a little shaky, but she couldn’t stop smiling. _He came to spend Christmas with me?_ “You can stay as long as you want.”

“Good.” He cleared his throat and let her go. “Here’s the thing though. I, uh, I ain’t alone.”

Rey squinted at him. “Sorry?”

He rubbed his hand over the back of his head. “Jimmy got wind of what I was plannin’, and he called Mellie, and next thing I know they were comin’ along. I couldn’t stop ‘em.”

His cheeks were pink, and his accent had thickened. “Your family came with you?” Rey looked around, but the street was empty.

“They’re at the hotel. Look, I know this is all unexpected, an’ if you ain’t comfortable with - “

He was almost babbling. Rey reached out, laying her hand on his chest, right over the zipper of his jacket. “West, it’s okay. I’d love to see them.”

And it was true; she was still dizzied by his sudden appearance, but Rey wasn’t going to pass up the chance to see Mellie again - and anyway she’d been curious about his brother ever since Mellie had first mentioned him.

He blew out a breath. “Okay then.” His hand covered hers, hot against her chilled fingers, and squeezed gently. “We got a suite, and Mellie says you’re invited to stay overnight if you want. If you don’t mind sharin’ with Sadie and her.”

“Sadie came too?” Rey felt her smile widen. “That’s great! Yes, okay, that sounds amazing.” It was one thing to let someone pay for a room for her, but if they had one already - “Just - just give me a minute - “

“Take as long as you want.” Clyde squeezed her hand again and let it go. “Don’t forget your gloves though.”

His mustache was twitching, and Rey made a face at him as she slipped through the gate, half-running back to her camper.

Her hands shook a little as she gathered up two spare sets of clothes, grateful now that she’d spent the money on a laundromat run rather than hand-washing her jeans again; they took _days_ to dry that way. _Toothbrush, comb - where’d I put the lotion -_

It all went into her pack. Rey looked around, and on impulse crammed in the box of chocolates as well, not wanting to go empty-handed to whatever the Logans had in mind.

The whole thing seemed unreal, and Rey tied her pack shut hurriedly, still feeling as though she were going to wake up any minute. _Gloves, hah._

They were work gloves, not winter gloves, and they were hanging up to dry. Rey ignored them and took a deep breath, trying to settle herself before pushing the door open again.

Clyde was right where she’d left him, waiting politely outside the gate even though she hadn’t closed it. Rey locked the padlock and made a mental note to text the Ticos and let them know she wasn’t there, just in case. “All set,” she told Clyde, turning.

“Let’s go then.” He held out his hand; and it was natural, somehow, to take it, to let him lead her across the street to a little car parked at the curb.

At the sight of it, Rey burst out laughing. “Do you even _fit_ in that?”

Clyde chuckled, releasing her hand and fishing the key fob from his pocket. “Hey now, you can run this thing for a week on what the Pontiac takes to go to the corner store.” He beeped the Prius unlocked, and Rey, still laughing, rounded the hood to open the passenger door and climb in.

* * *

He could barely take his eyes off of her. The Prius was a lot smaller than his Pontiac, softer, quieter, and yet it all felt so familiar - Rey next to him again, brightening the darkness with her presence. Clyde still wasn’t entirely sanguine about his idea being turned into a family event, but it was hard to care when Rey looked so excited.

She chattered about her jobs and asked him about his as he drove to the hotel; she sounded pleased about hers, but to Clyde it sounded awfully close to overwork, working two and occasionally three shifts in a day, and one of them outdoors. But he wasn’t going to say anything, not then. It wasn’t any of his business - and anyway Christmas was supposed to be a happy time.

The sight of the hotel made Rey’s eyes go wide, and Clyde spoke up before she could say anything. “Bit much, ain’t it? You know Mellie, though.”

Rey shot him a wry look, shoulders relaxing a trifle. “Are you sure they’ll let me in?”

“If they won’t, we’ll run off and find a nice Motel 6.” Clyde bypassed the valet stand and drove into the general lot.

“That would work,” she agreed gravely. “At least until Mellie noticed we were missing.”

“Yep.” He found a space and shut off the car, reaching back to snag Rey’s pack before she could. “I got this.”

She wavered for a moment, as if to argue, then gave way, stuffing her hands nervously into her coat pockets. Clyde shouldered the pack, and they made their way inside.

The place was dressed up for the holiday in what Clyde supposed was elegant decorations, all white and silver and blue; to him it looked cold, like the hotel was trying to make it look frozen indoors. But they went through the big lobby with no one giving them more than a glance despite Rey’s shabby clothes.

It _might_ have had something to do with the glare Clyde had cast around while Rey was absorbed in the sights, but he couldn’t swear to it. Still, no one met his eyes for longer than a second, and he was satisfied.

The elevator shot them up almost fast enough to make him dizzy. Rey hadn’t said a word since they’d got inside, and Clyde shifted from foot to foot. “You okay?”

She bit her lip. “Yeah…I’m just…I think I’m still stunned that you’re here.” Her expression was worried. “I - you know, I haven’t been to a party since I was a kid.”

“Well, this one ain’t formal.” Clyde tried to figure out the words to reassure her. “Jimmy and Sadie are real excited to meet you.”

Rey blinked. “Really?”

“Yep.” The elevator stopped and they stepped out into a plush hallway. Clyde guided her down a few doors, thumping his fist on the door rather than fishing out the keycard.

It flew open a few seconds later. “You was supposed to text,” Mellie scolded, grinning hugely. “Rey!”

His sister enveloped Rey in a hug, enthusiastically returned. “It’s so good to see you,” Rey said, eyes squeezed shut, and Mellie giggled.

“Thought we’d surprise you.” She released Rey. “C’mon in!”

The suite was pretty nice, Clyde had to admit that - two bedrooms with two beds each and bathrooms attached, a big central living-type room, and a little space with a dining table and chairs and a sort of bar with a sink and microwave. When they’d arrived, it was a normal hotel space, nicely decorated but bland.

Mellie had barely given them time to clean up after their flight, sending Clyde and Jimmy out with a grocery list and taking Sadie on her own shopping run. Clyde hadn’t been back since; and in the time he’d been gone, the place had been transformed into a golden-glowing holiday.

Somehow Mellie had managed not only a tree sparking with lights, but garlands along the walls wound with their own lights, Christmas music playing from the sound system, and big candles here and there. Clyde even recognized familiar table ornaments placed around the room; Mellie must have brought them from home, old treasures inherited from their parents.

Rey advanced into the room, eyes wide. “This is amazing! I haven’t seen anything like this in years.”

Mellie beamed. “It does look nice, don’t it? I mean, Christmas is Christmas no matter what, but it is nice to have it look like it.”

 _“Is she here?”_ Sadie bounced out of the bedroom that had been designated the “girls’ room”, the pompom on the end of her Santa hat bobbling back and forth. “Daddy! She’s _here_!”

“Keep it down, Sadie-Bug,” Jimmy said, sounding amused as he followed her out. “We don’t want to scare her off or nothin’.”

“Rey, this here’s my brother Jimmy an’ his daughter Sadie,” Clyde said, managing not to roll his eyes.

“Merry Christmas, Miss Rey,” Sadie said, holding out her hand with perfect politeness, and Rey smiled and shook it.

“Merry Christmas! It’s nice to meet you, Miss Sadie. Clyde’s told me a lot about you.”

“He’s the best uncle,” Sadie said confidingly, making Clyde’s ears heat. “I’m glad you found him.”

Rey shot him a look, a dimple forming in her cheek. “Me too.”

Clyde cleared his throat, but before he could gather words Jimmy stepped up next to his daughter, offering his most charming grin along with his hand. “Glad to meet you at last, Miss Rey. I gotta thank you for looking after my little brother.”

She shook her head. “It - it was definitely mutual.”

Jimmy laughed. “Only fair.”

“Are you from England?” Sadie asked as Rey drew back her hand, looking up with bright eyes and ignoring Mellie’s _Sadie, that ain’t polite._

Rey shrugged, not looking particularly upset. “I don’t know. I guess my parents were.”

Jimmy’s hand descended on his daughter’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “No rude questions, okay?” he said mildly. “Why don’t you show Miss Rey where she’ll be staying with you tonight?”

Not at all cowed, Sadie grinned. “It’s over here,” she said, gesturing, and Rey turned to Clyde.

“Can I have my pack please?” She was still smiling, and a warm pulse of satisfaction ran through him. If she was pleased, she would stay.

He swung it off his shoulder and handed it to her, and the two disappeared into the other room. Mellie propped her hands on her hips.

“That girl is too thin again,” she said, keeping her voice low. “We’ll have to do somethin’ about that.”

Jimmy shot Clyde a look. “Is she gonna meddle?”

“She’s a Logan. What do you think?” Amused, Clyde turned slowly in a circle, taking in the decorations again. “Looks real nice, Mellie.”

“It had better.” She looked pleased. “Has she had supper yet, Clyde?”

“Don’t think so.” In fact, judging by the boniness of Rey’s wrists and the way her cheekbones stood out, Clyde suspected that wasn’t the only meal she’d missed lately. The notion made him quietly angry, but he couldn’t see an immediate solution, aside from making sure she ate while she was with them.

“Good, then we can go out. Twenty minutes - you two go change, I know you packed nice clothes.”

Jimmy whined, and Mellie flicked a hand at him. “The suit’s for church, just get out of that ratty t-shirt!”

Clyde snickered and nudged Jimmy’s shoulder. “C’mon, no point in arguin’.”

“Why did we let her run this thing again?” Jimmy followed Clyde into their room, which had two beds larger than the one in Clyde’s trailer; perhaps fortunately for their sleep patterns, Mellie hadn’t decorated there too.

“You tell me, it was your idea to call her.” He’d hung his clothes up in the closet earlier, for ease of access; Clyde rummaged through the short row for a fresh undershirt and started unbuttoning his flannel.

It didn’t take them twenty minutes to change, even when Clyde ducked into the bathroom to run a comb through his hair. He should have been tired, he knew, coming off a six-hour plane ride and it being three hours later for him than Seattle’s time, but instead he felt a slow-bubbling delight.

“She’s pretty cute,” Jimmy said when Clyde emerged; he was fussing with the sleeves of the dark pullover Mellie had given him for his birthday. “Smart, too, huh?”

“Seems so,” Clyde returned dryly, slipping his button-down shirt over his prosthesis. He knew better than to rise to the bait in Jimmy’s voice.

“Hm.” Jimmy eyed him, then nodded, as if to himself.

The living room was empty when they returned to it, but they didn’t have to wait long; Sadie came out first, minus the Santa hat but wearing a necklace of miniature Christmas lights that actually lit up. She was all but dancing, and Clyde wondered idly just how much chocolate she’d had that afternoon.

But then, one of the benefits of being an uncle was that it was Jimmy’s problem.

Mellie and Rey emerged together, laughing, and Clyde blinked at the sight. Rey was still wearing her worn jeans, but in place of her shirt was one of Mellie’s close-fitting sweaters in a deep green that made her seem to glow a little. Her hair was down from its usual ponytail, but someone - Clyde suspected Mellie - had drawn a little of it into a thin braid at the back of her head, tied off with a sparkly elastic. Her face was lit with excitement, and the dimple was in full evidence.

It wasn’t that much of a change, but it came to Clyde that this was how Rey should always look - carefree and cared for, not worn by work and worry.

For an instant a crazy daydream ran through his head, of Rey with them back in their home town - hanging out with Mellie, sitting on a stool in Duct Tape, curled up on his battered couch reading and then breaking off to talk about books with him.

 _There’s nothing there for her,_ he reminded himself. _Not enough jobs for the people who already live there, no reason for her to plant herself in a backwater little town._ Rey had _potential;_ moving somewhere where the nearest college was forty miles away, and a community college at that, would do her no good.

He shut it away with a pang, and focused on getting them all out of the room and down to the parking garage and the SUV Mellie had rented.

The steakhouse Jimmy chose was more than decent; they piled up in a big booth, hip to hip to hip, and somehow Rey ended up between Sadie and Clyde, with him on the outside so his prosthesis wouldn’t get in anyone’s way. Sadie was her usual cute self, chattering away about this and that, and Rey listened to her easily, not looking put out by all the talk.

Clyde didn’t have much to say, he never did, but it was good to listen - and better to watch Rey eat, putting away mashed potatoes and salad and steak as Sadie ate her burger. Rey talked about cars with Mellie and laughed at Jimmy’s stories about working retail, but every so often her gaze would slide to Clyde, just checking up on him, and it made a curl of warmth unfold in his chest every time she did. She didn’t try to make him talk, but sometimes she’d ask a question, or lean over to make a quiet, amused comment when Jimmy and Mellie started ragging on each other; and he wanted it to last forever. Family and Rey and good times, all mixed together.

Jimmy insisted on dessert even though his daughter was growing drowsy, leaning against Mellie with a yawn, and Clyde was tempted to slip some of his pie onto Rey’s plate while her attention was elsewhere, but the thoughtful look Mellie was giving him quashed the impulse.

When they got back to the hotel, Jimmy carried his sleeping daughter in to bed while Mellie went around the living room switching on the lights and candles. “Pour us some drinks, bartender?” she said over her shoulder. “I got us some nice stuff earlier.”

She had indeed; Clyde lifted an impressed eyebrow when he opened the bar cupboard and saw the bottle there. He lifted it out and reached for the glasses stocked next to them, glancing at Rey. “You want some?”

“What is it?” She wandered over, eyeing the bottle.

“Bourbon. Mellie’s got expensive tastes.” He twisted off the top, enjoying the crisp snap of the seal.

“Just ‘cause you serve the cheap stuff - “ Mellie said, rolling her eyes, and Clyde snorted, reaching for the ice bucket.

Rey beat his grab. “I can get it. Sure, I’ll try it, but just a very tiny bit, okay?”

Clyde nodded, and Rey went out the door. She came back just as Jimmy came out of the bedroom, shoving up the sleeves of his sweater. “Ain’t going to be able to do that too much longer, she’s gettin’ bigger every week.”

“Maybe she’ll go in for football,” Mellie said with a grin, and Jimmy scoffed.

“She ain’t got the build. Softball, now…”

Rey brought the bucket over to the bar, and Clyde dropped a cube or two into his glass and Jimmy’s - Mellie took hers neat - and waved the tongs at the scant finger he’d poured for Rey. “You want ice?”

She shook her head, and he passed her the glass, and then Mellie’s. “Give this to her, will you?”

They ended up in the living room, Mellie curled up on the loveseat and Jimmy taking one of the big soft chairs. Clyde sprawled out on the couch, expecting Rey to take the other chair, but she set her glass on the low table in the center. “Excuse me a minute.”

She disappeared into the girls’ bedroom - to use the bathroom, Clyde assumed. Mellie took a slow sip of her bourbon and sighed. “Oh, that’s good.”

Clyde stretched his left arm out across the back of the sofa, relishing the pull against tired muscles, and sampled his own glass, letting the smooth flavor fill his throat. It _was_ fine stuff, and for an idle moment he contemplated stocking it at Duck Tape, but the notion was foolish; no one would ask for it, the price point really was too high. _Too bad._

Jimmy tipped his glass in Clyde’s direction. “This was a damn good idea. Sadie’s having a real nice time.”

Mellie smiled into her drink. “Maybe you two should go by Disneyland on the way back.”

“Hell no.” Jimmy shuddered visibly. “Bad enough she makes me watch the movies.”

“I still think you should let her paint your nails.” Mellie pulled up her legs and curled them under herself.

“Oh sure, that’ll look real great at work - “

Clyde smirked and let them tease each other, content to listen and wait for Rey to come back. Fatigue was starting to pull at him, but mostly he just felt relaxed, half-sunk in the plush couch.

Rey came back out, padding in socked feet, and detoured around the table to pick up her glass before sitting down next to him.

Clyde nearly flinched out of sheer surprise. His damaged arm wasn’t around her shoulders, not really, it was lying along the cushions behind her, but the effect was almost the same. If Rey had noticed, she didn’t seem to mind; she took a tiny taste of her drink, lashes fluttering as she swallowed. “Wow.”

Clyde swallowed, too. “What do you think?” he managed.

She took another minuscule sip, thinking a moment before replying. “Well, I haven’t tried much alcohol besides beer…but it tastes better after it goes down.”

Jimmy laughed, and Mellie reached a clutching hand toward Rey. “If you don’t want it - “

“I didn’t say that.” Rey grinned, pulling the glass closer to her chest.

Clyde forced himself to relax again, and left his arm where it was. He wasn’t used to being so close to anyone outside of family, but he didn’t feel like he wanted to pull away.

On the contrary, it felt right. Natural, even. Normally he kept his left arm out of the way of folks - partly because some got rude, but also from the memory of pain.

 _But Rey won’t hurt you,_ the back of his mind told him, and Clyde believed it.

“Did you guys have a good flight?” Rey said, tucking one foot under her leg. “I can still hardly believe you’re here.”

“Ask Jimmy,” Mellie said with a smirk. “It was his first plane ride.”

“Yeah, and I’m bringin’ my own anesthetic on the way back.” Jimmy made a face. “Or maybe get one of those first-class seats. How the hell did you fit in that thing?” he asked Clyde.

“Practice,” Clyde returned, though it had been many years since he’d been in a plane seat. Neither the memories nor the more recent flight had been particularly comfortable, but he’d expected that.

“Sadie had fun,” Mellie pointed out, and Jimmy’s face softened.

“Her brothers tried to scare her ‘bout it, but she just laughed at them. They’re just jealous.”

“Brats, both of ‘em,” Clyde murmured to Rey, who snickered.

“You doing okay, Rey? Clyde said you found a place to stay,” Mellie said, and Rey nodded.

“My bosses at the auto shop are letting me stay in a camper free of charge - I’m fixing it up in my spare time. It’s a teardrop trailer, almost vintage, and of course they don’t have a sewage hookup in the lot, but the power works.” Rey beamed. “Clyde gave me a set of those little tealights, and I was going to put them up tomorrow, but…”

She glanced around the room admiringly, and suddenly Clyde was completely glad that Mellie and Jimmy had crashed his plans, because he would never have thought of something like _this._

“What you got on the list for tomorrow?” he asked Mellie, who hummed.

“Well, depends. There’s a nice brunch downstairs, starts at eleven, and I found a church not too far away if anyone wants to go - that’s at ten.”

“You think you can hold off Sadie long enough for all that?” Clyde asked, amused.

Jimmy rolled his eyes. “You forget last time already? She’s gonna be up at dawn tellin’ us it’s time for presents.”

“We brought the ones you sent,” Mellie said to Rey. “Figured it’d be more fun to open them here.”

Rey blushed. “They’re not much - “

Clyde nudged her knee with his. “It’s the thought that counts, y’know.”

“Unless it’s somebody wantin’ the complete set of Sparkle Ponies or whatever damn thing,” Jimmy grumbled. “Bobbie Jo gave me a _list._ ”

“Did you find them?” Rey asked, lips turning up, and Jimmy shrugged as Mellie laughed.

“‘Course he did. Sadie’s got him wrapped around her little finger.”

“Says the woman who got her a brand-new tablet. Don’t think I didn’t see that before you wrapped it.” Jimmy slumped in the chair, cradling his glass on his chest.

Mellie pursed her lips primly. “I am encouraging her artistic endeavors.”

Rey laughed. “What did you get her?” she asked Clyde, who merely raised his brows.

“It’s a secret. You’ll just have to wait an’ see.”

“Hmm, mysterious.” Rey sat back again, sipping her drink. Her cheeks were still faintly flushed, her hair curling at the edges, and Clyde hadn’t seen anything so pretty since the first time baby Sadie had smiled at him.

If he’d still had his hand, he would have been able to feel the tickle of her hair on his wrist, and the way the cushion moved when she leaned against it.

 _If I still had my hand, I’d never have found Rey_.

Clyde blinked. The thought felt profound, though it was simple enough. If the Curse hadn’t sent them over the IED, if he hadn’t been hurt, he never would have had to flee, and he would have stayed safe at home.

_What would have happened to her?_

There was no telling. She might have continued on her way, picked up a lift to the next town, and the next, and the next. She might have found a job, or not; she might have escaped Plutt, or not. Worse might have happened to her.

 _It’s not a tradeoff,_ Clyde reminded himself. _Not a price._ Dr. Min had been very firm about that. Bad things happened, but while he was free to find what meaning he could in events, they were neither punishments from fate nor some kind of exchange.

 _Just be grateful that you did meet her._ For her sake, and for his own.

Rey looked down into her glass, which still had a swallow or so of bourbon, and tilted it to make the liquid circle the bottom. “I didn’t bring her anything,” she said quietly, as Mellie and Jimmy argued lazily about computers.

“‘Course you didn’t, you didn’t even know we was coming. She ain’t expecting anything.” Clyde pointed his chin at his siblings. “She’s gettin’ so much stuff from them two that she won’t even notice.”

“And from Uncle Clyde?” Rey said, mouth curving slyly. “I hear he’s the best uncle.”

“I’m the only one she’s got,” he returned, though his ears were heating again. He wasn’t going to admit that she was right about the presents at least. “Mostly it’s books.”

And if he slipped a toy pony or two in there too, who could blame him?

Rey’s smile softened, and she nudged him back. “Books are _great_ presents.”

For the life of him, he couldn’t keep from smiling back; and then wondered why he should.

The four of them chatted desultorily for a while; Clyde suspected that his siblings at least were very tired, but no one quite wanted to end the evening. Rey changed the dynamic, he’d noticed that almost at once - they still teased each other, but Mellie wasn’t so sharp about it and Jimmy’s discontent wasn’t in evidence. Clyde wasn’t sure if they were hiding it for Rey’s benefit, but it felt more like there just wasn’t any need for it. _Maybe it’s just Christmas Eve._

He savored it like the bourbon, though, setting it in memory.

Eventually Mellie yawned, hand only partially covering it. “Mm. Y’all can stay up ’til Santa comes if you want, but I’m quittin’.”

“Me too,” Rey said ruefully. She set aside her empty glass and pushed to her feet, swaying just slightly as she tilted her head to regard Clyde. “See you in the morning?”

He looked up at her, all soft in the golden light. “I’ll be here.”

She smiled. “Goodnight then.”

“Sleep well, boys,” Mellie added, yawning again, and the two of them vanished into the ladies’ bedroom.

Jimmy watched them go, sleepy-eyed, then glanced at Clyde. “How you holding up, little brother?”

Normally Clyde would have brushed him off - had, in fact - but tonight the question didn’t sting. “Better’n I deserve.”

Jimmy snorted. “Ain’t we all.” He slid down a bit, knees sticking out in a vaguely ridiculous fashion. “Can’t make up my mind,” he added.

“‘Bout what?”

Jimmy grinned. “Bed, or another glass of that fine stuff.”

Clyde considered the choice, then stood up. “Can’t take it home on the plane…”

Jimmy held up his glass, and Clyde took it, pouring them both another measure and wishing Rey sweet dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really should have tagged this "slow burn", shouldn't I?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. This chapter did _not_ want to cooperate.

It was the rustling that woke Rey. A soft expanse of bed and a full stomach had sunk her deep into sleep - not to mention the effect of the bourbon when she was used to nothing stronger than beer - but her reflexes were still sharp, and she lived alone. 

_“Sadie Logan, you get back in bed before you wake Miss Rey,”_ came the irritated whisper. _“She’s a guest!”_

Rey grinned sleepily into her pillow. “‘M awake.” 

A long silence, and then - “Merry Christmas!” Sadie sounded downright gleeful. 

“Sadie! What time is it, even?” Mellie said irritably, and Rey rolled over. 

The room was gray with morning light, and Sadie was twirling back and forth in her pajamas, hair a tangle. She and Mellie had shared one bed, and Mellie looked as if she wasn’t ready to get out of it, but when she met Rey’s gaze a reluctant smile broke out. 

“It’s eight-oh-four! It’s morning, Aunt Mellie. Time to get up!” Sadie tugged at the blanket covering Mellie, who yanked it back up. Sadie’s eyes were gleaming with a mix of eagerness and humor, and Rey winked at her before sitting up. 

“Merry Christmas, Miss Sadie. It’s definitely time to get up.” 

“Yayyy!” Sadie danced from foot to foot, not noticing Mellie reaching for a pillow until it hit her square in the chest. _“Hey!”_

Rey had read about pillow fights, but never experienced one. _Well, now’s my chance -_ She grabbed both of hers, tossing one to Sadie and springing out of bed to paste Mellie with the other. 

A quick laugh, an indignant yelp, and it was _on_. 

Five minutes later they were all lying disheveled across one bed, panting in between giggles; Rey didn’t know who’d won, but it didn’t seem to matter much. Sadie was the first to recover, rolling over to prop her arms on her aunt. “Is it time yet?” 

Mellie heaved a dramatic sigh, glancing at Rey. “I dunno. You had better go see if the boys are awake, don’t you think? _Knock first!_ ” she added as Sadie bounced off the bed and ran out the door. “Lord help us. Let them deal with her for a bit.” 

Rey giggled again, enjoying the ache of her abdomen at the exercise. “Is she usually this excited at Christmas?” 

“Nah, she’s just wound up ‘cause we’re here.” Mellie stretched, her pajama top riding up a bit. “Sorry if it bothers you…” 

“No!” Rey rolled over to face Mellie. “I just haven’t been around kids much. At least since I was one.” 

Mellie folded her hands on her stomach, looking sleepy and pleased. “She’s a good kid. I’m real glad Jimmy got his act together so he can stay close to her.” 

“Clyde says he’s a good dad.” So far, Rey liked Jimmy; he was as quick to tease as Mellie, but he obviously loved his daughter and his siblings very much. 

“Mm-hm. He and Bobbie Jo should never have got married, but I must say he stepped up real well when Sadie was born.” Mellie eyes were closing. “She’s a good kid.” 

Amused, Rey considered rolling off the bed and leaving Mellie to fall back asleep, but Sadie burst back into the room. “They’re up! Daddy says we can do presents _if_ you’re ready.” 

Mellie heaved a dramatic sigh. “I suppose. If we gotta.” She opened her eyes and raised a brow at Rey. “You ready?” 

Rey hesitated. “Should we get dressed first?” 

Mellie sat up and stretched again. “Up to you, but I ain’t botherin’.” 

She was wearing a long satin pajama set; Sadie’s pajamas were decorated with unicorns. Rey glanced down at her own combo of t-shirt and sweatpants, and decided she wouldn’t either, though she did pull on a sweatshirt. “Let me hit the bathroom first.” 

Mellie flapped a hand at her, and Rey snickered and slipped away to use the facilities and freshen up. 

Clyde and Jimmy were already in the living space when Sadie finally herded them out of the bedroom, the latter poking at the coffee machine on the dining bar and the former sitting on the couch looking ruffled and sleepy. Neither of them had gotten dressed either; Jimmy was wearing boxers and a tank top, while Clyde wore shorts and a band t-shirt so faded that Rey couldn’t quite make it out. He hadn’t yet put on his prosthesis. 

Rey felt a little pulse of pleasure seeing him so relaxed, without the edge of grimness he’d had before. _I guess those sessions with the doctor are working._

“Sadie, why don’t you start with your stocking? We’re gonna need snacks.” Mellie started rummaging in the cabinets of the dining bar, pulling out cookies and other goodies she’d apparently stashed earlier. 

“Oh, I brought some candy, hold on.” Rey darted back into the bedroom to pull the box of chocolates from her pack and bring it out, glad she had something to contribute to the festivities. She added it to the pile on the low table in the living room, and Jimmy handed her a cup of coffee. Mellie was going around and turning on all the decorative lights again, and Sadie, who had a well-stuffed Christmas stocking in her hands, plumped down next to her uncle to dump it out on the couch. 

Rey took one of the armchairs and watched with interest as Sadie sorted through her goodies. It was mostly candy, it seemed, but Rey spotted a tube of lip gloss and a keychain among the sweets, and a little mandarin orange that had to be worked out of the toe. 

Clyde watched, murmuring in response to Sadie’s excited commentary, but at one point he lifted his head and caught Rey watching. She grinned at them both. _They are just so **cute**._

Clyde’s lips didn’t twitch, but he winked back before turning to take his own cup of coffee from Jimmy, and Rey pulled up her legs and sat back, amused. 

It was all so fascinating to watch. Rey’s Christmases with Maz still stood out in her memory, but it had been just the two of them, with a tiny artificial tree and a nativity set and a couple of carefully wrapped toys or books. And church; Maz had insisted. There had been no indulgent family, no spread of lights and decorations, no stocking. 

Rey knew those things weren’t necessary for the holiday. She’d held her own tiny celebrations after Maz’s death, setting up the nativity and decorating it with whatever greenery she could scrounge, and until Luis left she’d had Christmas dinner with him and his parents. But seeing this now, the casual affection the siblings displayed so easily, the effort made to mark the occasion, the delight on Sadie’s face - it didn’t make her sad, exactly. More like wistful. 

_What would my life be like if I had a family like this?_

But there was no answer for that, so she set the thought aside, and took the box of flavored popcorn Jimmy passed her, focusing on the moment. And the food. Brunch might take place at eleven, but Rey was hungry _now_. 

“Do you want one, Miss Rey?” Sadie held up a peanut butter cup. “I’ve got lots.” 

“Sure,” Rey said, and Sadie leaned over to hand it to her, turning back just in time to see Clyde sneaking one for himself. 

“Hey!” Sadie squeaked, grabbing, but he held it out of her reach with a grin, and she thumped him on the leg and scrabbled her goodies back into the stocking, giggling the whole time. Clyde peeled the peanut butter cup open with a dexterity that had to be born of much practice, popping it into his mouth whole, and Rey hid her smile in her coffee cup. 

Jimmy pushed to his feet. “Come on, Sadie-Bug, let’s sort out those presents.” 

Rey hadn’t paid much attention to the heap of packages underneath the tree, except to note that Mellie and Clyde had indeed brought the ones she’d sent. They were dull compared to the bright paper on the others, though Rey had carefully smoothed out grocery bags and drawn holly leaves on them before using them to wrap her gifts. 

She raised her chin. _Nobody expected you to make it all pretty,_ she told herself. _They all know you don’t have much money._

In fact, it was as if none of them noticed the difference. Jimmy and Sadie read labels and distributed the presents, piling them up in front of each person with happy efficiency, and Rey was startled to see four land on her side of the table, each one bearing her name. A large blocky one with Clyde’s cramped handwriting, a bulky parcel with a wide cursive that was probably Mellie’s, a square with elaborate lettering and a fancy curl in the tail of the Y, and a red envelope with the letters barely readable. 

Astonished, she looked up; Clyde just shrugged when Rey met his eyes. Mellie leaned over as Sadie began tearing into her first gift. “Now don’t argue,” she murmured. “Just let us have our fun.” 

_I…_

For what felt like long moment, Rey hesitated, caught between embarrassment and pride, and an aching, sweet emotion she couldn’t identify. Part of her wanted to draw back, stung; part of her wanted to fall forward into the warmth of the Logans and what they were offering her. 

_I want this._

It might have been the manners Maz had drilled into her, it might have been the loneliness that had hollowed her out for so long; it didn’t really matter. Even if this closeness was just for a few days, she would take it. 

Rey took a deep breath, and reached for the topmost gift. It was the square, encased in paper printed with cartoon reindeer and bound with ribbon that culminated in an enormous bow. The ribbon was knotted too tightly to undo, so Rey worked it carefully off the paper, shaking her head at the scissors Mellie offered. 

When she unfolded the paper, Rey found a little hand-bound book inside; the cover read “THE ADVENTURES OF UNCLE CLYDE AND WONDER-REY”. She flipped it open; it seemed to be a comic, drawn in meticulously sketched panels, with a little Clyde, whose mustache was bigger than his head, and a woman with a cape who was rather more statuesque than Rey would ever be. 

It was _marvelous_ , and Rey felt her heart melt as she turned the pages. Mellie chuckled softly. “She’s been working on it for weeks,” she said quietly. “Kinda too bad she’s off cooking now, she was gettin’ real good at brownies, but this’ll last longer.” 

Rey shook her head again and looked up, but Sadie was busy cooing over the pony figurine she’d just unwrapped and wasn’t paying attention. 

“It’s wonderful,” Rey replied. “I can’t believe she put in this much effort.” 

“I won’t lie, it’s half because it’s her latest hobby, but she’s real fond of Clyde and she was pretty worried when he up and disappeared.” Mellie toyed with the wrapping of the present on her lap. “It might be more excitin’ than what you actually went through, though.” 

Rey laughed. “That would be hard to do.” She closed the comic book with care and set it down, folding the wrapping paper. _I can use this on the camper windows if I need to._

When she looked up again, Jimmy was holding up a DVD to admire it, Mellie was ripping paper, and Clyde was fishing in a gift bag. It appeared to be a free-for-all, so Rey reached for the bulky present in her pile. 

It was squashy, and opened to reveal a sweater in a rich red - not a thin clinging one like the sweater Mellie had lent her for Christmas Eve, but sturdy and intricate with cables and patterns worked into the knit. Rey held it up to look at it, and would have put it on at once if she hadn’t already been wearing a sweatshirt. 

_“Thank you,”_ she said to Mellie, who grinned. 

“Red’s your color. An’ it’s Christmassy, too.” 

Across from Mellie, Clyde was peeling the paper off the long box Rey had used for her gift for him, and Rey draped the sweater across her lap to watch, not entirely sure what his reaction would be. Like Sadie, she’d spent weeks on it, stolen moments here and there, but - _Maybe it’s too weird, or cheap -_

Clyde opened the box, brows going up, and drew the contents out with care. His eyes widened, and Rey found herself holding her breath. 

Jimmy whistled. “Oh, my - “ Mellie said. “Did you _make_ that, Rey?” 

“What is it?” Sadie asked curiously, scooting forward for a better look. 

“It’s a weathervane, ain’t it?” Jimmy said, glancing at Rey, who nodded shyly. 

“The pole’s in the box. It should just fit on top.” 

The metal structure in Clyde’s hand was simple - the usual four-armed directional pointer, topped by a swiveling arrow that bore not a rooster, but the silhouette of a vintage Pontiac. Rey had painstakingly punched the compass letters through the thin metal of the pointer arms; the design was simple, but - she thought - reasonably graceful. 

Clyde cleared his throat. “It’s _amazin’,_ ” he said, his voice a bit rough. “I ain’t never had anything like this, thank you.” 

Relief flooded her, and Rey smiled at him. “I’m glad you like it,” she told him shyly. 

“Can I see?” Jimmy asked, and Clyde passed the weathervane over to him, Mellie getting out of her chair for a better look. Sadie came over to Rey. 

“You _made_ that? All by yourself?” 

“Mm-hm.” Rey fidgeted with the sweater. “The garage I work at ends up with a lot of scrap metal, so I just…recycled some.” 

“That’s really cool.” Sadie beamed at her. “What’s it for?” 

Rey had to laugh. “It’s to tell what direction the wind is blowing, but most people just use them for decoration.” She picked up the comic book. “Thank you for this, Miss Sadie, I love it.” 

Sadie nodded happily. “Y’welcome.” 

“All right, give it back now.” Clyde collected the weathervane from his siblings, turning it carefully to examine it, and Sadie went back to her place to open another package. Rey folded the sweater and set it on the table, and reached for the red envelope. 

“That’s some real talent you got there,” Mellie said seriously as she resumed her seat. “You do that a lot?” 

Rey shrugged. “I used to, sometimes, but I don’t have as much time any more.” 

She’d fiddled around with scrap and solder while Plutt wasn’t looking, idly building things when she wasn’t fixing something, but never with this much _intent_. It was by no means perfect, but it was as close as Rey had been able to get with the time she’d had. 

She peeled open the envelope. It held a gift card for Barnes and Noble, and her heart bounded at the sight. _Books!_

Mellie snickered. “Same thing Jimmy gets Clyde, every year,” she said. “Judgin’ from the look on your face, he guessed right.” 

“Yes he did,” Rey agreed. Jimmy was currently occupied with Sadie showing him one of her gifts, so Rey didn’t interrupt. _I can thank him later._

Mellie reached for the flat, paper-wrapped box that Rey had sent her. “Now I’m real curious.” 

Rey stuffed popcorn into her mouth as Mellie opened the package. It wasn’t as complex a project as Clyde’s gift had been, but Rey still hoped it pleased Mellie, so it was satisfying to see her surprise as she lifted the box’s lid. 

“Oh, look at this!” Mellie held up the ornament; three concentric circles of metal surrounding an orange glass disc, strung on wire so that the circles could spin independently. “A suncatcher!” 

Rey had found the glass in one of the camper’s cupboards, along with a lot of trash; there had been four of them, but she’d broken two before she’d managed to fix the third in place. It was a very plain design, but she’d tested it in a beam of sunlight and the results had been sparkly, so Rey was satisfied. 

Mellie tapped it to make the circles turn, shaking her head. “Rey, you are in the wrong line of work.” 

Rey shrugged. “I like fixing cars,” she mumbled around her mouthful. 

“That’s real pretty,” Clyde said softly. “Mellie’s right, you got talent.” 

Her face heated, and Rey shrugged again. “It’s just old metal.” 

“It’s _art_ ,” Mellie said firmly. Clyde huffed. 

“You got one more package,” he pointed out. 

Rey bit her lip and reached for the blocky gift, easily the largest meant for her. She could feel the edges and corners as she pulled it towards herself. “ _Books,”_ she said, grinning at Clyde. 

One corner of his mouth turned up in a tiny smirk. “Go on, open it up.” 

Rey peeled the paper back. _Oh…_

It wasn’t the same copy of _So You Want to Be a Wizard_ she’d given to Clyde, it was a brand-new hardback with a cover she’d never seen before, but the title was clear. Elated, she looked up at Clyde. “You remembered!” 

“‘Course I did.” He looked almost affronted. “Keep goin’.” 

Rey picked it up - and beneath it was another book, _Deep Wizardry._ She felt her eyes widen. _The second one?_

Hastily, almost scrabbling, she dug further. Another, and another, and _another,_ until the table was littered with books - eleven of them, the whole series. 

Rey stared at _Games Wizards Play_ , heavy in her hands, and couldn’t make her voice work. But when she met Clyde’s gaze his smirk softened, and she knew he understood. 

“Good grief, you could knock someone out with that thing,” Jimmy said amiably. “Is all those that Harry Potter?” 

“Daa-ddy.” Sadie rolled her eyes. “All the Harry Potter books start with _Harry Potter_.” 

Mellie, who was fiddling with her phone, snickered. Rey picked up the first book and held it out to Sadie. “These are about wizards too, but American ones.” 

Sadie took the book and glanced at a few pages, but didn’t seem very interested. Rey examined a few of the others in turn, reading the front flaps and wondering how long she could make them all last. _Probably a few months at least -_

The presents were mostly finished; Clyde opened up a couple of CDs and Sadie another set of ponies while Jimmy got more coffee. Rey sat back with a handful of salted nuts and watched in bemused contentment, though she couldn’t help eyeing her new books. _Later. You can read them later._

Mellie set her phone down. “It’s just past nine. Sadie, help me pick up all the paper, and then we can see who wants to go to church, that’s at ten.” 

“I thought you said there was a brunch,” Jimmy objected, crumpling up wrapping paper. 

“Doesn’t start ’til eleven.” Mellie handed a wad of ribbon to Sadie, who stuffed it into the wastepaper basket she’d fetched from a corner of the room. “But it runs to three, so there’s plenty of time.” 

Jimmy sighed, but didn’t argue. Clyde muffled a yawn with his hand. “‘M gonna go get cleaned up, if we’re goin’.” 

He pushed to his feet and cocked a brow at Rey. “D’you want to come? It ain’t mandatory.” 

Rey hesitated. It sounded interesting, but she hadn’t been inside a church in almost a decade, and she kind of didn’t want to face a bunch of strangers - even wearing her lovely new sweater. “I…I think I’d rather not, if that’s okay.” 

“Of course,” Mellie said easily. “We’ll come back and pick you up for brunch.” 

Forty minutes later, the suite was silent, though the Christmas lights still twinkled and shone. Rey took a quick shower and dressed in solitary splendor, slipping the sweater over her head and spending at least a minute admiring it in the mirror before picking up one of her new books and stretching out on her bed. 

_This is the most amazing Christmas I’ve ever had._

Rey sighed contentedly, and opened the book. 

* * *

The buzz of her phone shocked Rey out of the story. _We’re back,_ Mellie sent. _Come on down for brunch._

Rey closed the book with alacrity and took a quick moment to smooth her hair before heading out. It was strange that she didn’t _feel_ strange about the whole thing, Rey thought as she waited for the elevator. Normally she would worry about incurring obligations she couldn’t possibly pay back, or eating food so far outside her price range as to be in another county. 

_I don’t know why it doesn’t bother me, but it doesn’t._ Maybe she was still dazzled by the sheer fact of the Logans coming to visit, bringing their unselfconscious generosity and the simple assumption that Rey would accept being made a part of things. 

Maybe it was just that, for a little guilty while, Rey felt like part of a family again. 

_I know I’m not. But I can pretend for a bit._

And since the Logans seemed intent on pretending it too, Rey wasn’t going to fight it. 

It wasn’t hard to find them when she got to the hotel dining room, though it was almost full; even sitting, Clyde was tall enough to be visible. He was the first to spot her, and while he didn’t really smile, he leaned back to pull out a chair for her as she neared. 

“There you are,” Mellie said comfortably as Rey sat. “We’re all thinkin’ buffet at this point; does that suit, or do you want something else?” 

Rey, whose mouth was already watering at the delectable scents coming from the long tables, nodded. “Oh…the - the buffet sounds good.” 

“Okay then.” Mellie flagged down a server and ordered coffee for the table. “Let’s do this.” 

Rey lagged a little as they got up en masse, Sadie skipping ahead and Jimmy following behind her. Clyde walked beside Rey. “You ever done this before?” he asked quietly, and she had to shake her head. 

He snagged a plate from one of the stacks and handed it to her. “You just help yourself, unless there’s a server, like for the meat over there. An’ there’s no limit, you can come back and get another plate as many times as you like.” 

“That sounds like cheating,” Rey said, mouth quirking, and Clyde shrugged. 

“That’s the way it works.” 

It _felt_ like cheating, but Rey followed Clyde as he moved down the long tables, watching as he chose from the various dishes. Perhaps fortunately, most of them had little placards saying what they were, so she didn’t have to guess, and Rey scooped up spoonfuls of grits and macaroni salad and an entire lavish serving of eggs Benedict, a few strawberries, green beans - there seemed to be no end to it all, and she ran out of room on the plate before they’d gotten far at all. 

But no one seemed to care. No one even looked twice as she carried the plate back to the table, no one scolded her for greed or looked disapproving, and Rey sat down and tried each selection, listening as the Logans bantered back and forth. Sadie had a waffle drenched in syrup and whipped cream, though Jimmy was trying to get her to eat some fruit as well; Mellie had gone for a variety almost as wide as Rey’s, and Clyde had constructed a sandwich out of roast beef and rolls and was consuming it peacefully. 

_It’s like I’ve slipped into an alternate reality._ It wasn’t dreamlike, the tastes on her tongue were too vivid, but the Rey who sat surrounded by a family, dressed in a lovely, new, warm sweater, and ate foods she’d never thought to try was not someone Rey had imagined she could be - at least not for years to come. _I wish…I wish…_

She cut off the thought before it could hurt too much, and swallowed a bite of macaroni to chase away the lump in her throat. Christmas was a time to be happy, if you could. 

_And I don’t want to waste a single minute._ Rey cleaned her plate of every morsel. Just as she set down her fork, Mellie stood up. “I’m going for another round. Show me where you got those eggs, Rey?” 

And so it was easy to pick up another plate, with Mellie’s assurance by her side - to walk down the tables and choose another half-dozen foods and not feel like someone was going to yell at her for it. She even found the courage to go back a third time by herself - and then Clyde coaxed her into a fourth, for the desserts. 

By the time they made it back to the suite, even Sadie was quiet. 

“Ugh, I need a nap.” Mellie rubbed her stomach. “You want to join me, Sadie-Bug?” 

“No, I’m gonna play ponies.” Sadie shot Rey an assessing look. “Miss Rey, you want to play with me?” 

Rey blinked. _I can’t remember the last time I played…anything, really._ “Um. Okay? But I don’t know how.” 

Sadie shrugged and took her hand, towing her over to the side table where all the new equines were arranged. “It’s easy, you just make stuff up.” 

They settled on the floor near the Christmas tree, and Sadie gave her a quick rundown of each pony’s name and attributes. The symbols on their butts were a help, and when Sadie politely offered Rey first choice of which ponies she wanted for her play, Rey picked the one decorated with apples and let Sadie divide up the others. 

When she looked up, Jimmy had settled on the couch and was watching some kind of race on the big flat-screen TV on the far wall; Clyde had taken over one of the armchairs with a book, but he caught her eye and winked. 

Rey grinned back, and grabbed the pony’s hairbrush. 

It was surprisingly fun. Sadie had a strong imagination and was old enough that her plotlines had continuity, and before long Rey offered to construct a castle out of some of the gift boxes left over from that morning. Sadie fetched a pocket knife from her father, and they set about cutting holes in cardboard and taping boxes together; Sadie folded some decorations out of wrapping paper (“ _I was int’rested in origami last year”_ ) and Rey filched candy canes from the snack pile to form trees. 

By the time Mellie emerged, yawning, they had created a three-building village and a rudimentary sleigh, and Sadie was explaining the intricacies of how the ponies were going to rescue Santa from the Grinch. Clyde came over to crouch down and admire, then gave Sadie a pointed look. “You been at this almost two hours, it’s time to let Miss Rey up off the floor, okay?” 

“Oh, it’s - “ Rey started to demur, but Sadie just scrambled up. 

“Okay, what can we play then?” 

“How about Go Fish?” Mellie called. “I know you brought it.” 

“Want to get some fresh air?” Clyde asked as Sadie ran for the cards. “It ain’t too cold out.” 

“Sure! That sounds nice.” Rey blinked up at him as he straightened. “You don’t want to play Go Fish?” 

Clyde’s mustache twitched, and he held out his hand to pull her up to her feet. “Played enough of that to last me the rest of my life.” 

Rey snickered and let his hand go, wishing fleetingly that she could hang onto it. 

Clyde was right; it was cold but not freezing, and the slanting afternoon sun lit the city in gold as they walked away from the hotel. Over the past few months Rey had mapped out large parts of Seattle in her head, but she didn’t have any reason to go to the wealthier areas of downtown, so the streets they chose weren’t familiar. 

It didn’t matter, though. Being outside in the crisp air with Clyde was a delight, and for a while they just walked in comfortable silence, enjoying the holiday decorations in various windows and feeling no need to talk. 

They had gone almost eight blocks before Clyde spoke. “How you holding up?” 

Rey, hands stuffed in her jacket pockets, gave him a wry look. “I could ask you the same thing.” 

“I asked first.” The corner of his mouth curled up, and Rey had to laugh. 

“I’m doing okay. I mean, things are still kind of uncertain, but I have a place to stay and that’s a huge relief. And I have that appointment next month about my ID.” 

Clyde muttered something she couldn’t catch. “You ain’t working too hard?” 

Rey shrugged. “As hard as I need to.” 

She didn’t like worrying him, but the truth was that she had very little choice when it came to the jobs she could get. She needed all three just to get by; it was true that she still had a lot of the thousand dollars he’d given her, but Rey knew that sooner or later there would be an emergency and she’d need it. 

Telling Clyde that outright - well. _He’d want to help. And I can’t -_

Rey couldn’t quite finish the sentence, even in her own head, but it was true all the same. She couldn’t go on accepting his charity indefinitely. This holiday was one thing, a sort of party and gift all wrapped up together, but it was from _all_ of them. 

When it came to Clyde himself, Rey was certain that she didn’t want that inequality between them. _He’s my friend. I’m not his charity._

He blew out a breath. “C’n I ask a favor?” 

“Of course.” Curious, Rey glanced up. Clyde looked almost nervous, mouth drawn taut. 

“Put us in your phone as your contact in case of an emergency. It don’t have to be me,” he added hastily. “Mellie’s fine too. Just - just - if somethin’ happens - “ 

_“Clyde.”_ Rey pulled a hand from her pocket and squeezed his arm, feeling her face heat a little. “You already are.” 

“Oh.” He blinked, going as pink as she felt. “That’s good then.” 

The moment hovered on the edge of awkwardness, and then he pulled his arm in so that her wrist snugged in against his jacket, and they kept going. “Your turn,” Rey prompted, embarrassed and pleased in equal measure. 

“Hmm. It’s goin’, I guess.” Clyde was silent a moment, and Rey gave him time to arrange his words. “Feels like we ain’t making much headway, except when I think back I’m definitely in a better place, if you know what I mean.” 

Rey nodded, and he went on. “Still got a ways to go, accordin’ to Dr. Min. But I got time.” 

“It’s worth taking the time,” Rey said slowly. “I’m glad it’s working.” 

She was watching the sidewalk ahead of them, but out of the corner of her eye she saw him look down at her. “Me too.” 

* * *

“There you are,” Mellie said when they made it back to the suite. “We were startin’ to worry.” 

She didn’t _look_ worried, Rey thought with amusement. “It’s not even completely dark yet.” 

“Mel just likes fussin’.” Clyde’s dry words were directed more at Mellie than Rey. “We brought hot chocolate.” 

He set the carrier box down on the bar counter as Sadie squealed. There was already an array of crackers, chips, dips, and other munchies set out there, and as Rey pulled off her coat Mellie shrugged. 

“We’re all still kinda full so we figured we’d just snack instead of doing supper, but if either of you are hungry we can call down for something.” 

“No, that’s okay,” Rey said quickly. She wasn’t _not_ hungry, but her stomach wasn’t gnawingly empty the way it often was. “Snacks are fine.” 

Clyde shot her a sharp look, but didn’t argue, just plucking her coat from her hands with his prosthesis and going to hang it up with his own. 

Mellie smirked and walked over to the couch, prodding the supine form there until Jimmy snorted. “Leave off, Mel!” 

“Rise and shine, sunshine, or you’ll be up all night.” Mellie dodged Jimmy’s half-hearted swat. 

“Yeah, Daddy, you promised you’d play cards when you woke up, remember?” 

“So I did.” Jimmy rolled upright and stretched, groaning. “Poker, right?” 

“ _Daaa-_ dy…” 

He grinned and stood, limping a little as he headed for the bar counter. “Hot chocolate first. You want some, right Sadie-Bug?” 

“Do you play cards?” Mellie asked, turning to Rey. “Not that I’m suggestin’ you join the high-stakes table of Crazy Eights.” 

Rey laughed. “I haven’t played since high school - Luis’ parents were all about Conquian and they taught me to play. When I was in junior high it was Egyptian Ratscrew.” 

“Egyptian what now?” Clyde’s brows were climbing towards his hairline, and Rey turned up her hands. 

“That’s what it was called. There was a lot of smacking the table, which is probably more fun when you’re twelve.” 

“I bet,” Mellie said. “Well, once Miss Sadie is out for the night, we can play somethin’ a little more adult if you like - no pressure though.” 

“That sounds fun,” Rey said, curious. 

“Forfeits,” Clyde said, giving his sister a stern look. 

Mellie rolled her eyes. “Of _course._ I didn’t bring chips anyway.” 

Rey had no idea what they were talking about, but before she could ask Jimmy waved from the bar counter. “Anybody else want some of this?” 

“Yes, please,” Rey called, and went over to get her share of the cocoa. 

The evening drew on, filled with reading, snacks, more hot chocolate, and quiet conversation around Sadie’s games. She played cards with her father, sat with Clyde to draw for a while, and lured her aunt into more imaginings with her ponies. Rey made it through several more chapters, stopping every so often to get another plateful of munchies, and it was all just wonderfully _relaxed._

She had to admire their casual care of Sadie. The girl was never ignored or set aside, and the way each one spent time with her individually let the rest of them do as they pleased, without any of them acting as if it were a duty or a chore. Sadie herself seemed content, happy to play with everyone as their turn came. 

It wasn’t a family like any Rey had observed, not that she’d seen that many up close. But it clearly worked; and they’d made a space for her as if it had been waiting all along. 

It felt so _comfortable_ that she had to close her eyes for a moment, and just breathe. 

_It’s not yours. You’re just visiting for a bit._

But oh, how she wished she could stay. 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know anything about cars, either.


End file.
